


Crownless Kings and Lionhearts

by ctwriites



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Dwarves, Everybody Lives, F/M, Fluff, Interracial Relationship, Multi, Mutual Pining, Swords & Sorcery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:09:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 69,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29294946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ctwriites/pseuds/ctwriites
Summary: 'I threw myself to the wolves, only to learn of the tenderness in their howl, and the loyalty in their blood.'(this was originally published in 2015 on FF.net, but i wanted to dust it off and move it here - impulse and curiosity are a dangerous combination)
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins & Thorin's Company, Thorin Oakenshield/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 8





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> i don't own anything in this fandom aside from my character(s) and the tweaks i've thrown into this sock drawer of a story. hope yall enjoy!

Her fingers traced the scabbard for the dual swords and, for a moment, she considered taking them before the memory of that day resurfaced yet again.  
  
_Smoke chugged up into the sky and, while the upheaved civilization fled the ruins like an ant hill, she regarded one dwarf that looked at their host on the incline with hope in his eyes…_  
  
Looking to the twin long knives placed next to the dual swords, she lowered them to fasten their strap behind the thicker strap of her restocked quiver. After locating a dozen-count set of throwing knives in the nearby chest and adding them to the stolen arrows, she shot a brief look heavenward before exiting the armory.  
  
Sharp ears finding her escape had yet to be discovered, she proceeded down the steps into the lowest floor's wine cellar and risked one look back to distantly hear voices before she yanked on the lever of the barrel chute to drop into the stream running beneath the kingdom's halls.  
  
The cold water stung at what skin wasn't covered by her tunic or trousers or boots, but she grew used to it as she kept underwater, only resurfacing when she made it past the drawbridge and taking a great gasp of air. Form shifting as she was pulled down for a moment, she emerged in the guise of a gray wolf and paddled to the nearby shore. She looked back once shaking her fur dry and silently bid farewell to her former home before turning to lope away towards the southwest.

  
x  


It would be damn-near impossible for any elf to not feel the tension permeating the air of battle, much less to not hear the cacophony of those involved in a campaign like this.  
  
The unfortunate orc gave a vain gurgle of anguish before falling at the prince’s feet with its disemboweled state drenching the once-green ground with black blood.  
  
Chest heaving a bit with the respite he took, the prince vainly began to wonder just how long this battle would continue. Already five— _no, six_ , he had to remind himself— years had come and gone in this struggle to reclaim their ancestral home, and in the process they had lost more lives than he cared to admit.  
  
A guttural roar sounded from an orc that rushed him from the right, yanking him back to reality. The dwarf prince turned to greet his reckless foe with a swing of his sword but stalled when an arrow shot cleanly through the other’s jugular from its back. Subconscious whacking him out of surprise, he took one step to the side as the dead orc dropped and looked for its assailant that he quickly spotted past the clashing bodies of orcs and dwarves alike.  
  
A willowy figure clad in light armor— which looked like brown leather from his place a little less than a hundred yards away— stood there with their bow drawn. The elf’s mane of brown hair had been drawn up into a braided plait and, if he wasn't mistaken, appeared to be an otherworldly beauty beneath the dirt and blood much like all elves looked as far as he knew.  
  
The dwarf's gaze locked with that of the lone elf and found that he had never seen the shade of blue that was in her eyes, pale blue like at dawn's rising… he resurfaced a bit from their staring match when she lowered her bow in a silent assurance that he was not her enemy, his brow furrowing a bit at regarding the recognition in her gaze that hadn't left his.  
  
Where would they have met, he half-wondered. He would surely remember seeing an elleth like her…  
  
A snarl sounded at her back as another orc rushed the she-elf, bringing their staring match to a screeching halt, as she turned in time to catch the beast's face with her bow and cause a solid _'whack_ ' to sound.  
  
The orc snarled in pain as it recoiled just long enough for the once-polished blade of her long knife to behead it with ease. Giving a sniff as it fell to its knees before her, she risked one last look at the dwarf prince with a beginning smirk crossing her lips before she shouldered her bow and looked away to return to the battle.  
  
After hours and many now-dead orcs had passed, the battle was at last over.  
  
Stabbing the dirtied knife blade into the earth, she regarded the eastern gate of Moria for a moment to then look away and mentally tally the dead that lay scattered around her. Her heart sank with empathy for the surviving dwarves that mourned their dead, using her sleeve to wipe the dirt and blood from the lower half of her face as she then closed her eyes to murmur a prayer of lament for the fallen.  
  
“You.”  
  
Stiffening at the gruff beckon, her eyes opened and looked to the prince she had saved hours ago. He was a dark-haired dwarf, as tired and dirty as she probably looked, clad in a scuffed and chipped mail jerkin, with his brow furrowed into a suspicious scowl meant for her.  
  
Again their eyes met, and it was her turn to regard that his eyes were a curious combination of storms and clear skies.  
  
“My condolences, for your losses,” said the elf in a polite tone. Although if he was like other dwarves, which wouldn't surprise her at all, then he already assumed she was being condescending and overly-confident like most of her kin.  
  
If he was surprised she offered condolences towards his fallen kin, it didn't show in the dwarf's rugged features. “Why are _you_ here? We didn't send for aid… least of all from your people,” he demanded with a cocked brow.  
  
“I'm aware of that, yes, given I am the only elf you see before you,” she remarked as she chose to ignore his snide remark, continuing evenly, “I've come on the behalf of old alliances that have otherwise been strained, for the last count of millennia, between our respective peoples.”  
  
Those old alliances were all-but dead, he thought to return and instead folded his arms at his chest. “What is your interest in reviving old alliances, I wonder?” He asked even as his attempt to retain disinterest failed when hearing curiosity coat his words.  
  
“I am Eäriel, daughter of Húldaer from the Woodland Realm, and I came to offer my help to you in this campaign, Thorin son of Thráin,” she introduced calmly even as she recognized with some relief that this was the same dwarf who had looked to her former king for aid on that day.  
  
He brushed off the urge to snort at mention of that particular elf stronghold, retorting dismissively, “I'm afraid your help is no longer necessary, milady, as the campaign is now over…”  
  
“I ask you one thing, master dwarf… there was once an alliance and even a friendship between our peoples. Do you find it possible that we could make peace?” Eäriel insisted, retaining the calm tone as she watched hundreds of emotions glimmer in his blue stare.  
  
Thorin pondered on her words for what felt ages and, even as personal prejudice warred with rationality, he found that this was in fact one tenacious she-elf.

  
x several decades later x  


The flames moved in their sluggish dance as embers gnawed and consumed the logs fed to their maw. Men, passersby like her, talked and laughed on occasion in the otherwise-quiet common room of the inn.  
  
Taking a sip of mead from the pint as she watched the flames burn, the hooded female returned her mug to the tabletop and reclined in her padded seat while crossing her legs under the table. She wasn't blind to the glances shot her way by the quieter patrons now and then, seeming curious on her otherwise-silent person that occupied space in the Prancing Pony, but she ignored them.  
  
To say she saw him before sensing him would be far-fetched in her opinion, as it seemed within a moment she sensed his familiar presence enter the pub. She was too familiar with his presence to be surprised, given they had been friends for as far back as she could remember, and she watched the gray-clad man seat himself in the chair across from her.  
  
A warm smile tugged at her lips, and between taking another sip of her mead while he asked for the same from one of the tavern girls, she greeted, “you’re punctually late.”  
  
The elderly man returned the smile as his metallic eyes twinkled knowingly beneath his bushy gray brows, replying in the same tone, “I did not come by the faster route as you did.”  
  
Reclining in her seat again and cocking a brow, she paused when the girl returned with his pint before musing, “you know well that I scarcely travel the main roads. What is it you've got for me to do, now?” Within the last span of years she ran errands for him, keeping herself busy with the otherwise dubbed ‘ _borderline mundane’_ tasks, as she had told him after venturing just shy of Caradhras a few years past.  
  
“I am glad you’ve asked, my dear. And don’t fret, this time you're not going anywhere you won't like... actually, I think you'll like this one quite a lot. It's a task suited for one as brave as you.” He reclined a bit in his own chair and regarded her with relief.  
  
Even in the dimness of the room he could see her lips shift into a pout at his knack for seeing all, in spite of her mild chagrin, and she half-sighed the words, “by all means.”


	2. a chance meeting

_So much for a quiet evening at home!_  
  
The hobbit could only fathom that his day, which had taken an awkward turn when meeting the wizard Gandalf at the time where he went to fetch the post, had caused such an odd occurrence.  
  
Of course the two dwarves that now stood in his home talking animatedly between rifling through his pantry’s contents— Balin the white-haired dwarf and his younger brother Dwalin, the halfling had to recall— was merely another strange addition to his otherwise-unperturbed day.  
  
Again the doorbell rang, a third time actually, pulling their host from his thoughts rather brusquely.  
  
Wryly wondering if the oddities would cease, the shortest present abandoned his attempts to direct the dwarves' attention from sorting the stored cheeses to go answer the door. He pulled it open to find, much to his growing chagrin, two more dwarves standing on his doorstep, granted they were both younger than the first pair by a good count of years. For the brief moment that they surveyed him, the hobbit felt rather conscious of his being in his well-worn red sleeping robe.  
  
The blonde dwarf who looked to be the older of the two brothers spoke first, breaking the moment of awkwardness, “Fili!”  
  
“And Kili!” Added the brunette dwarf, before he and his brother gave a polite bow and said in chorus, “ **at your service**!”  
  
Both dwarves straightened with matching smiles on their scruffy faces, and the hobbit had an inkling that these two were something of mischief-makers as children.  
  
“You must be Mr. Boggins!” Kili said cheerily, acknowledging the mild twitch of the hobbit’s brow at his mispronunciation.  
  
Panic suddenly caused the halfling to try and close the door on the new faces as he half-yelped, “nope, sorry, you’ve got the wrong house!” His attempt was stymied when the younger dwarf stuck a foot in the way.  
  
“Has it been cancelled?” Kili asked with a frown starting to grace his features as the door was forced open by his foot.  
  
Fili shared an inquisitive look with his brother before adding, “noone's told us…”  
  
“Erm no, nothing’s been cancelled, I don't think...” Bilbo Baggins shook his head with confusion as, again, he half-wondered how this night had turned the way it did.  
  
A wide smile lit up Kili’s face as he said, “that’s a relief!” He then pushed his way into the foyer past the hobbit.  
  
Fili gave a bob of the head to their host in attempt to apologize for his brother's rudeness, shouldering his dual swords from his shoulders to toss them to the hobbit and advise, “careful with these, I just had them sharpened!”  
  
Kili was surveying the wide halls of the home as his brother took a minute removing the knives from his person to give to their host. “Nice place you've got, did you do it yourself?” He asked lightly between turning to scrape the mud off his boots on the squared edge of a nearby chest.  
  
“It's been in the family for years, actually… could you please not do that? That’s my mother’s glory box,” Bilbo called, daring not move too fast as he now had custody of the mobile knife armory in his arms.  
  
Dwalin emerged from the pantry area then and slung an arm around the youngest dwarf’s shoulders as he greeted, “Fili, Kili, come give us a hand!”  
  
“Mister Dwalin!” Kili returned with a happy grin as it had been a minute since he'd seen the tattooed warrior, hearing Fili follow them to the dining room.  
  
“H-hang on, what! How many more of you are there?” Bilbo squeaked at overhearing Balin say they would have trouble fitting everyone into the dining room that he thought too small for anyone not a hobbit, turning to call to the odd quartet only for the blasted doorbell to ring a fourth time. Voicing an annoyed groan at being stymied again, he dropped the sharp objects and pretended they didn't give a noisy clatter when steel met floor as he snapped at the foyer, “there’s nobody home!”  
  
In that moment politeness had slipped through his hands like running water, and he deemed that whoever had wished to play games with him was going to get a piece of his mind, as he strode to answer the door. “Go away and bother someone else for there's one too many dwarves in my dining room at the moment! I-if this is some git’s idea of a joke…” he gave a half-nervous laugh at that as he expected his sanity was the next to slip away from him, stopping short of opening the door to finish pointedly, “it's in _poor taste!_ ” He then yanked the door open wide.  
  
His frustration with the guests in his home seemed to leave him then, as instead of another dwarf there stood a woman on his doorstep. Bilbo blinked once at the abrupt change, first noting the woman was too tall to be a dwarf or hobbit and secondly finding that she was beautiful in an otherworldly sense. He had scarcely if ever come across one of the _'Fair Folk'_ , so to be face-to-face with one took him off guard.  
  
“Eäriel the Wanderer, at your service!” The brunette elf introduced with a polite smile and slight bow, straightening to add in the same tone, “please forgive my tardiness, Master Baggins, I'm afraid it's been a while since I've visited the Shire and I got a bit lost.”  
  
“Ah-um, it’s quite alright! Please come in, my lady!” The hobbit assured with a slight bob of his head in a nod, his cheeks flush with some embarrassment at not being proper, shuffling aside to let her pass into his foyer.  
  
Eäriel chuckled a little and returned the nod in thanks, being careful of not hitting his chandelier as she turned to him between removing her green cloak. “I'm glad for that rune mark on your door, otherwise I would still be out in the cold,” she said before shedding the straps for her quiver and knives to hang them on the hook where her cloak was.  
  
A thought struck the hobbit and he glanced at the door and mused aloud, “odd, I don’t remember there being a mark on the door… was only painted nearly a week ago…”  
  
“Lass!” Balin’s voice came from the other end of the foyer where the dining room led to, making both elf and halfling look to see the four dwarves had emerged when hearing her enter the house. The oldest of the quartet regarded the bright twinkle in her eyes at recognizing them and he smiled.  
  
“ **Eäriel**!” Fili and Kili exclaimed in chorus before rushing to embrace her, being caught in her arms as she returned the embrace just as tightly.  
  
Eäriel laughed at being received so warmly by her friends, letting the princes down and grinning from ear to ear at the reunion as she giggled, “I've missed you too, boys!”  
  
“We didn’t expect you’d be joinin' us, lass,” Dwalin greeted with a smirk meant for the younger dwarves' euphoria.  
  
Eäriel shook her head and remarked lightly, "I could hear the ruckus you lot were causing as far as Bree, so I had to come." The tattooed dwarf still kept her at arms' length, despite her loyalty to their mutual friend who was not yet present.  
  
“I’m hurt that you continue assuming the worst of us, Eäri,” Kili jested with a pout up at her.  
  
“That's because I visited you and your dear mum enough times to expect as such, Kili,” Eäriel remarked with a sisterly tousle of his locks, shuffling away to be of some sort of aid to Dwalin and Balin who had left them to return to the dining room.  
  
Fili pouted as well and followed her leave, pointing out, “yeah but we’re not dwarflings anymore…”  
  
Once again Bilbo was left to himself in the foyer, granted he was baffled and rather entranced with the new face to the unofficial guest list. At a loss on an explanation of how a she-elf had struck a friendship with dwarves of all creatures, he then jumped as the doorbell rang a fifth time.  
  
He shook his head and answered the door, pulling it open and jumping back nearly a foot so as to avoid the pile of dwarves that toppled over onto his threshold. Briefly taking count of the eight groaning and annoyed dwarves that started to pick themselves up, the hobbit looked past them at the responsible party to recognize the gray-clad wizard who regarded that they were accounted for before meeting his gaze.  
  
“Gandalf.” Bilbo said with some weariness as the named man offered a small smile in greeting.

  
  


Before the poor halfling knew just who was doing what and putting what where, there was a total of twelve dwarves bustling about his house, frequenting between the pantry and his dining room where the noise was most congestive.  
  
Bilbo managed to look in just once on his pantry, half-hoping there was some food or drink the dwarves had spared, only to see crumbs and expired food had remained. He exhaled wearily and deemed that this night had in fact wrung out what patience he had, feeling that if one more dwarf had to enter his home it would implode.  
  
Looking over at their host who had transitioned from despair to trying to direct the dwarves to return what chairs they picked up to their original places, the elleth smiled in a measure of guilt from her place leaning against the doorway of the raucous room.  
  
Locating her with ease before shuffling to stand at her left and follow her gaze, the wizard chuckled slightly as he wondered, “it seems our host is rather overwhelmed, isn’t he?”  
  
“The preparations have been made ready for tomorrow, I saw to them earlier before coming here,” she said before taking a nip from her mug of ale that Fili had given her moments ago.  
  
Gandalf nodded at that and smiled as he said, “good, good, I'm glad to see you so eager for adventure.” He looked away to then tally the dwarves around them, musing, “Fili, Kili… Oín, Glóin… Dwalin, Balin… Bifur, Bofur, Bombur… Dori, Nori, and Ori…!” He trailed off on the last and youngest dwarf’s name as the halfling had chosen at that moment to retrieve a small basket of red tomatoes from the dwarf, affording a slight frown as he found their numbers weren't complete, adding moreso to her, “I’m afraid that we're off by one…”  
  
“He'll come, he traveled north to a meeting of our kin is all,” Dwalin supplied to both taller members of their party as he passed by between taking a swig from his mug.  
  
Eäriel nodded slightly and watched Dori return to give a small glass of red wine to the wizard before looking to her old friend and lamenting to him, “no doubt he got lost again…” If he didn't consider it an insult to his pride then she would have drawn up a map for him to arrive on time… but alas, no.  
  
“Eäri, come on,” Kili called from the dining room, drawing her from her thoughts as both she and the wizard perked up.  
  
Gandalf smiled knowingly at her when she offered a sheepish look before leaving him to join the dwarves at the table, his smile lingering at seeing her brighten up being among her friends once again. Between running errands for him within the last count of years, she had frequented the Blue Mountains to visit the dwarves, namely the young princes that had taken to her well despite their differences.  
  
Eäriel laughed slightly as Fili was busy dishing ale to his kinsmen around the table that happily accepted the offered mugs before he plonked down in his chair at her left, taking a swig of her respective ale.  
  
It felt like centuries since she had experienced such warmth as she did with the dwarves, and for one vain moment she wanted this to last for another century… a loud and simultaneous belching chain erupted from the dwarves then, drawing her back to the present, as they had all guzzled their ale before laughing loudly as the loudest belcher was Ori, and she had to laugh with them at the apparent champion.  
  
Dinner began to wind down what felt like hours later, and the majority of the dwarves vacated the dining room in exchange for refilling their mugs or chatting amongst each other in various niches of the warm house.  
  
Skirting her way out of the kitchen after refilling her mug, Eäriel looked at Bilbo when hearing the frustration in his voice as he shot after Nori into the kitchen to rescue the doily the other was about to wipe his bearded face with. Slightly shaking her head at the sight of their host's otherwise-spent patience, she mused, _poor lad, doesn’t know what Gandalf has in store for him_ …  
  
Kili looked at the elleth who had moved to stand near him and regarded her pensive look with a cocked brow before he mused aloud, “you’re doing it again.” He regarded that one of her pointed ears twitched despite the mane of brown that partially hid it.  
  
“Hm?” Eäriel minded his observant expression that caused her somewhat-confused look to shift to a gentle sort, and she remarked dubiously, “what's that for?”  
  
“You always grow quiet with that look in your eye when you think too much, Eäri,” he answered matter-of-factly, watching a pout cross her fair face with a cheery smirk on his lips.  
  
Knowing she couldn't dismiss him like when he was a child, Eäriel puffed in defeat. “If you _must_ know, Kili, I was wondering just when was it that you and your brother had grown up to be so strong,” she tilted her head a bit with a wry smile having taken place of the brief pout.  
  
It seemed just yesterday she was meeting the then-dwarfling princes and now here they stood, strong and brave enough to follow their uncle into this impending journey that would no doubt prove to be a trial.  
  
Kili’s ears partially hidden by his dark hair turned red in a measure of humbleness, but his smile turned into a light grin before he recalled something and his face lit up. “Hang on, almost forgot!” He then left her to zip to the hall where he left his things, earning a lifted brow from her, before returning as quickly as he went with something hidden at his back. “Go on, then, close your eyes,” he looked up at her with a cheery smile.  
  
Eäriel pouted a bit at that cheery smile that had won her over many times in the past, and she sighed before complying, “fine, fine…” Closing her eyes even as she wondered what he was playing at, her pout faltered a bit when his stubbier fingers gently took her free hand to deposit a cloth-wrapped something into her palm.  
  
Opening her eyes to regard the navy-colored parcel, she set her mug down to then unwrap it and find the knife he had given her. It was small and looked like it could be concealed without much effort, and she regarded the geometric design on the wooden handle that signified its making was dwarvish. “It’s lovely, Kili…” she admitted with a fond smile meant for him before adding, “thank you.”  
  
“Don’t thank me, thank my mum. Said she wanted to give it to you the last time you were in Ered Luin, but she didn’t get to because you left so soon.” Kili shrugged with a thoughtful look at mention of his mother, giving a shrug.  
  
Eäriel chuckled softly at that and rewrapped the knife with the mental note to find a place for it on her person, musing, “I'll have to thank her when I see her again.” Along with the odd alliance she had struck with the dwarves of Erebor, she had made a fast friend in the Lady Dis who had not shied from her and shown her nothing but compassion in those first few years…  
  
“… should I do with my plate?” Ori’s meek voice asked of their host who had been venting to the wizard nearby, drawing both dwarf and elf's attention to him as well.  
  
Fili passed by him and said, “I'll take it for you, Ori.” He took the plate from his hands and nonchalantly tossed it down the hall, ignorant to Bilbo’s blanched expression that was for naught as Kili caught the plate with ease and chucked it into the kitchen for Bifur to catch it over his shoulder.  
  
Eäriel smiled at the boys as they proceeded to chuck one piece of dishware after the other in Kili’s direction only for the items to end up in Bifur’s care, poking her head into the dining room when hearing the dwarves in there begin to pound their fists on the table and scrape their silverware together to create the rhythmic beat of a jig. _Still dwarflings no matter how old they get,_ she thought with a gulp of her ale.  
  
“Please don't do that, you’ll blunt them!” Bilbo protested to the dwarves scraping the silverware together.  
  
Bofur sang cheerily, “d’ya hear that lads, he says we’ll blunt the knives!” The dwarves continued stomping their feet against the floor to cause the rhythm to escalate as Kili and Fili started the song between chucking dishes into the kitchen, before the dozen count of dwarves sang in one accord, “ **that's what Bilbo Baggins hates**!”  
  
Tapping her feet to the beat as the song continued, Eäriel found herself grinning at her friends' merriment before laughing when Fili pulled her by the hand into a small jig. Both elleth and prince danced about in a circular manner as the others continued singing before they all crowed at the end, “ _ **that’s what Bilbo Baggins hates**!”_ They broke out into laughs again and let the irritable and huffing Bilbo march himself into the kitchen to see all of his dishes were clean and ready to be put away.  
  
Eäriel released Fili’s hand with a warm smile and bobbed her head in respect as Fili followed suit, her smile faltering a degree at hearing something he did not. Quickly looking towards the foyer, she caused the brothers to look at her with some confusion before they all heard three hard knocks hit the wood of the front door.  
  
Regarding that the noise made the rest of the dwarves snap to, Gandalf looked from the confused Bilbo to the expectant dwarves to the elated light in Eäriel’s blue eyes before he said, “he is here.”

  
  


The odd party filed out from their respective places to congregate in the foyer and left the hobbit to be the one to answer the door as he was their host, after all, and it was only right that he answer it.  
  
Gathering his nerves about him, wondering just who this was to cause the otherwise-raucous dwarves to sober up so quickly, Bilbo turned the handle to open the door and reveal another dwarf that stood on his doorstep. It didn't take him but less than a second or two to regard the authority and overall-regal manner this newest dwarf carried himself with.  
  
Looking in on the foyer's occupants, the dark-haired dwarf spotted the wizard and he greeted in a low-timbre voice, “Gandalf.” He continued between entering the foyer, “you claimed this place was easy to find yet I lost my way here twice. I'd have still been out in the cold if I didn't see that mark on the door.” He unbuckled the dark cloak from his shoulders and looked expectantly at the tallest party member.  
  
Still rather sore with the evening’s events and put off by this newest face not introducing himself, Bilbo pointed out with a huff, “as I said before, there's no mark on that door as it was painted merely a week ago!” It didn’t matter to him, for that moment, that he earned a raised brow from the dwarf.  
  
“Actually there **is** , in point of fact, a mark that I put there!” Gandalf intervened before any sort of feathers got ruffled, earning a withering scowl from the hobbit, smiling politely as he gestured between hobbit and dwarf lord, “Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield.”  
  
Folding his arms at his chest with a bemused look on his rugged face, the dwarf turned to him and mused, “so, this is the hobbit.” Regarding that the mentioned smaller party swallowed at being under his inquisitive stare, he gave the other a once-over by circling him. “Tell me, Master Baggins, have you fought much?” He asked conversationally, earning a confused look at the question, before wondering, “axe or sword, which is to your fancy?”  
  
Chest puffing a smidge in attempt to brush off the expectant look from his newest guest, Bilbo answered confidently, “if you really _must_ know, I do have some skill at Konkers… though I don’t entirely see how relevant that is…”  
  
Thorin scoffed lightly at the halfling's diminished confidence. “As I thought, given he looks less like a burglar and more like a grocer,” he deduced with a sideways smirk at his nephews nearby, causing the dwarves to chuckle at that in spite of their host's expense.  
  
With their leader having reunited with them, the dwarves retreated to the dining room and left the hobbit and wizard to linger in the foyer.  
  
The dwarf lord looked to the elleth whose face he had spotted with his nephews moments ago, and he smiled wryly at having her present. “For a moment I didn't believe you would be joining us, Eäriel,” he greeted.  
  
The she-elf returned the smirk and returned, “like you and your fashionable tardiness, I didn't disappoint, Thorin.” She shot him a knowing look and tilted her head a bit before leaving him to retake her seat with the princes.  
  
A pot of stew had been made in preparation for his late arrival, and a bowl with a mug of ale had been placed before Thorin who took his seat at the head of the table as Gandalf came to join them.  
  
“What of the meet in Ered Luin?” Balin asked their leader who had begun to eat his stew, to which Dwalin followed with asking if their cousin Dáin was going to join them.  
  
Thorin’s face fell a degree and he shook his head a little as he announced, “they would not come.” A wave of disappointment regarding the named dwarf lord arose among the company, and even the she-elf frowned despite her general sense of relief.  
  
She had only met Dáin once and he trusted her about as far as he could throw her, she thought… Thorin's rocky friendship was something she would take over a rocky alliance with Dáin any day.  
  
“… going on a quest?” Bilbo’s small voice asked from the doorway of the dining room as he had been listening in between assessing the halls of his home, pulling her from her thoughts and causing the dwarf lord to look at the former who had poked his head in.  
  
Gandalf brightened at seeing the hobbit had been dropping eaves. “Bilbo, dear friend, would you perhaps give us a little more light?” He asked, withdrawing a worn piece of parchment from his robes as Bilbo trodded off to find a candle, unfurling what appeared to be a map and placing it before Thorin and begin, “far to the east, over ranges and rivers and beyond woodlands, lies a solitary peak…”  
  
_“’The Lonely Mountain_ ’…” Bilbo read aloud as the amber glow from the lit candle he had found made the map easier to read.  
  
Eäriel idly swirled the amber contents of her mug as she had no real need to listen to Gandalf speak of the mentioned mountain.  
  
Between doing his errands and visiting the dwarves, she had taken care of surveying the mountain on her own. All of her findings showed that there was a general vacancy of life out and around the lost kingdom's gates, so much so that the Lakemen all-but refused to go any further than the shores and much less towards the mountain itself… another thing to blame on that blasted dragon.  
  
“… ravens have reportedly been flying back to the towers there as foretold,” the hard-of-hearing dwarf Oín stated, confirming her reports she had relayed to Gandalf, and he recited in a grave tone, _“’when the birds of yore return to Erebor, then the reign of the beast will end’._ ”  
  
Bilbo froze in abandoning the meet at hearing those cryptic words, stepping into the room again with a confused furrow of his brow. “What _‘beast_ ’…?” He asked carefully, glancing from the dwarves to the wizard and lastly to the she-elf who looked deep in thought as she stared into her mug.  
  
Bofur, the one dwarf with a hat on his head, piped up calmly from his seat at Thorin’s right, “well that'd be in reference to Smaug the Terrible. Greatest calamity of our age? Airborne fire-breather, razor-like teeth with claws like meathooks. Very much so fond of treasure, to boot…!”  
  
“Yes, I think I know what a dragon is,” Bilbo interrupted with a gulp at the horrible thought of ever meeting such a creature, turning a bit to shuffle out into the halls.  
  
“I’m not afraid!” Little Ori bravely put in as he shot up from his chair, earning twin amused looks from the princes nearby, adding in the same tone, “I’ll give ‘im a taste of dwarvish iron right up his arse!”  
  
Eäriel smiled for his bravado even as he was shushed and urged to sit back down by Dori at his side, sipping her ale.  
  
“The task would be difficult even with an army at our backs, never mind that we're just thirteen! Not thirteen of the best, or brightest, mind you…” Balin commented, ignoring the murmur of those whose competence he picked at.  
  
Fili was next as he spoke up from his seat between Kili and Eäriel, “though we may be few, we’re all fighters, to the last dwarf!”  
  
Kili piled on in agreement, “never mind we've got a wizard with us! I bet Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time!” Most of his kinsmen agreed and shot looks at the named wizard while Eäriel shot him a look.  
  
Gandalf chuckled out of modesty as the dwarves and Bilbo looked to him, starting, “I wouldn’t really say that, to be honest…”  
  
“How many dragons have you killed, then?” Dori asked, causing the wizard to splutter slightly on the smoke from his pipe and adopt a blasé look that earned a curious look from Thorin at his right.  
  
Nori piled on out of curiosity that wasn't gone amiss by his kinsmen, “go on, give us a number!”  
  
“Honestly lads, I imagine Gandalf is too modest to tell you outright.” Eäriel piped up if only to help out the wizard, her ears giving a twitch when the room's occupants looked to her in her corner with the princes.  
  
“Come on, Eäriel, even _you_ must've seen one or two drakes, you’ve told us enough stories.” Fili urged, earning an agreeing nod from Kili.  
  
Brow giving a twitch at being put on the spot, Eäriel minded their uncle shot her an expectant look and she scowled a bit before replying patiently, “well I-I mean of course I've seen my fair share of beasts in the past…”  
  
The dwarves then began to debate between themselves about the things they had seen, particularly about the mountain and the dragon inside its halls. Bilbo even tried to get them to quiet down, but he went by unheard, and Eäriel looked to Gandalf and the knowing look on his face before giving a slight wince when Thorin shot up from his seat to command his kinsmen clam up.  
  
Regarding his kinsmen with a sharp look, Thorin addressed them with hardened words, “you lot think we're the only ones to read these signs? Rumors have started spreading that the dragon hasn't been seen for nearly a century… eyes look to the Lonely Mountain, wondering and weighing the risks. The wealth of our people lies unprotected, perhaps! Do we just let others claim what is ours or do we act now and retake Erebor?” His speech earned cheers of agreement from the dwarves, and he raised a fist in excitement.  
  
Ever the voice of reason, Balin pointed out as his leader retook his respective chair, “the front gate is sealed, mind you, so there's no way into that mountain.”  
  
“That isn't entirely true, my friend,” Gandalf countered calmly as he withdrew a key, worn and of dwarvish make from the looks of it, and presented it to Thorin.  
  
Thorin slightly gaped at recognizing the artifact, looking at the wizard as he asked, “how'd you come by this?”  
  
Gandalf replied quietly, “it was given to me by your father, Thráin, and it is now yours.” He handed it to the dwarf lord who was still surprised at now possessing it, glancing up at the brief look from the she-elf when mentioning the dwarf king that she had assumed to be dead.  
  
“If there’s a key, there must be a door…” Fili reasoned as it hit him, earning a smile from Kili.  
  
“These runes **do** speak of a hidden passage to the lower halls,” Gandalf confirmed with a gesture to the writing scrawled on the left-hand side of the illustration.  
  
“But dwarf doors are invisible when sealed, aren't they?” Eäriel guessed, picking up Balin's rationality, looking to the wizard.  
  
Gandalf nodded at that. “Sharp as always, my dear...” he praised before looking on the map as he turned pensive and added to the others, “the answer is hidden somewhere on this map but, unfortunately, neither of us have the skill to read it.” He glanced at the elleth as she had also looked at the illustration to come to the same conclusion.  
  
There was only one person they knew, rather well on both their parts, who could read the runes.  
  
“This will undoubtedly require stealth and courage but, if we're careful **and** clever about it, then it can be accomplished,” Eäriel stated for him, having looked at the runes before regarding her friends and looking to Gandalf again when Thorin shot her a look regarding the silent exchange.  
  
Ori spoke up again, _“that’s_ why we need a burglar!”  
  
“And a right-good one too, an expert!” Bilbo, who had been standing near Gandalf, nodded at that and missed the small smile from Eäriel.  
  
“And _are_ you?” Glóin asked as everyone save the elf and wizard shot an inquisitive look at their host.  
  
Bilbo blinked once and adopted a confused look as he echoed, _“’Am I_ ’ what…?”  
  
“He says he’s an expert!” Oín said with a satisfied chuckle.  
  
“I-I’m no thief, I’ve never stolen a thing!” Bilbo, having gawked at the misunderstanding, protested proudly.  
  
Balin lamented with a shake of his head, “I’m afraid Master Baggins is right, given that he cannot pass for a burglar.”  
  
“Aye, the Wild’s no place for gentle folk that can't fight or defend themselves.” Dwalin agreed with his brother.  
  
Another murmur arose among the dwarves, and the hobbit nodded his head with whatever agreements he could catch, as the volume slowly escalated. Even Eäriel couldn’t deny the older dwarves’ assumptions, as much as she believed in Gandalf's idea, and she felt the hairs on her arms prickle beneath her leather vambrances when a charge of magic came from the mentioned wizard.  
  
Gandalf straightened up and stated in a loud tone, “ **enough! If I say Bilbo Baggins is our burglar, then that is what he is**!” His power alone had caused the candlelight to flicker to a tiny flame before returning to normal as he continued in a calmer voice, “hobbits can pass unseen by most, never mind that the dragon isn't familiar with hobbits so that should give us a better advantage. You asked me to find the fourteenth member of this company, and I have chosen Mr. Baggins. There is more to him than appearances suggest and he’s got a lot more to offer than you know…” he had returned to his seat, earning a look from Bilbo and another small smile from Eäriel, looking to Thorin as he finished, “you must trust me on this.”  
  
It wasn’t like he had been given much room for argument… Thorin pondered for a moment that might as well have lasted a century, glancing away from the wizard to the lone elf whose gaze was fixed on the candle and it was in that moment he recalled her question the day they properly met.  
  
_‘Could we make peace?’_  
  
“Give the hobbit a contract, then, as our elf does not require one.” He stated.  
  
Having looked over at him with some surprise, she smiled contently and downed the bit of ale that remained as Balin handed a folded piece of parchment to Bilbo who then stepped away from the table to read over the fine print, the contract unraveling at one side until it touched the floor. She tilted her head at overhearing Bilbo quietly read one section, minding that he looked rather peaked the further he read as he had shuffled away only to stop in the hall.  
  
“… _’limited to lacerations… evisceration'…”_ echoed the hobbit, giving another gulp, before he looked up from the parchment to the dwarves as he quoted in something akin to a squeak, _“’incineration’?_ ”  
  
Bofur nodded at that and chirpily replied, “oh aye, he’ll melt the flesh off your bones in seconds!”  
  
At this point, ontop of looking peaked, Bilbo felt lightheaded and he let out a deep breath to calm himself... it didn’t take an elf’s sight to see he was shaking.  
  
“You alright, laddie?” Balin asked of their unofficial burglar.  
  
“J-just feeling a bit faint, that’s all!” Bilbo assured with a half-hearted gesture of his hand, stooping slightly to see if he could regain his senses.  
  
“Think furnace with wings!” Bofur supplied again, choosing to be oblivious to the overwhelmed hobbit as he added, “flash of light, searing pain and then… _poof!_ Nothin’ more than a pile of ash!”  
  
Bilbo straightened up and puffed a bit to regain his wits yet the mere thought of coming face to face with a dragon may as well have ended him right then and there… “nope!” And with that, he fainted.  
  
“Job well done, boys…” muttered Eäriel as she had palmed her forehead with a slight exhale.  
  
_This was going to be a long journey_.

  
  


The dapple grey stallion bumped her hip with his nose when she led him by the reins from the stables once the rest of the preparations were ready for their venture.  
  
Looking back to meet the stallion’s brown eyes, the elleth chuckled softly and paused to locate the pouch on one side of his saddle to withdraw a carrot and offer it to him. “Sorry 'bout that, I should've thanked you sooner, shouldn’t I?” She asked, letting him take the vegetable and munch on it.  
  
It wasn’t long before she reunited with the dwarves and, once a pony had been given to each of them aside from the mare meant for Gandalf and the spare pony that carried what the others couldn't, their odd company was leaving the town of Bree behind them.  
  
Catching the tune being hummed by the she-elf who rode at his left, Thorin recognized she was humming the dirge he and his kinsmen had sung the night prior in the hobbit’s home. Surprised as he was at her committing it to memory, the part of him that had looked forward to her company was pleased by it.  
  
“I’m sure he'll come,” Eäriel commented then, drawing him from his thoughts, watching him perk up a bit and look to her as she shrugged and clarified, “the hobbit.”  
  
Curious look faltering at mention of the halfling, Thorin rolled his eyes and asked for his own sake, “don’t tell me you picked up the gift of foresight, in your time with the wizard…?”  
  
“A woman just knows… never mind I half-hoped you were going to play your harp last night," lamented the she-elf, regarding the downward pull of his lips at the reminder.  
  
Giving a defensive huff, silently cursing his sister for having insisted the elf hear him play that one time, the dwarf lord remarked, “couldn't have forgotten that instance for one second, could you?”  
  
Blue met blue before she was first to look away with a fond smirk playing at her lips. "'Course not, but it's interesting to know you have a hobby... gods know you're too grouchy to ever admit it, though,” she mused.  
  
“Don't look so smug about it, then,” retorted Thorin.  
  
Eäriel pouted at that and started to say something only to pause at hearing someone running up to them from the greenery on the right side of the path, being first to look back and give a nod when Thorin followed her gaze.  
  
“Wait for me!” Bilbo Baggins called, emerging to then slow his pace and lift the signed contract that had been fluttering in his wake, adding, “I signed it!” He smiled sheepishly when some of the dwarves chuckled as he shuffled to present it to Balin who had brought his white pony to a halt like everyone else had their respective steeds.  
  
Regarding the returned downward pull of his lips, Eäriel reached to gently shove Thorin's shoulder and urge, “play nice.”  
  
Giving her a dry look before complying with reluctance, Thorin said to the others, “give him a pony!”  
  
Eäriel looked back at the curly-haired burglar and smiled for him before urging her stallion trot after Thorin's brown pony until they were side-by-side again, prodding, “Thorin?"  
  
"What?" Thorin grumped with a cocked brow as he looked forward.  
  
"I've missed you, too," admitted the she-elf in a quieted voice as she too looked to the road ahead.  
  
The dwarf looked at her after a moment, minding that it had been some time since she had teased him, so he huffed a little at that and said no more.


	3. river running high

And so the company set off, moving on past the quaint lands of rolling hills and closer to the Misty Mountains in the east.  
  
The ragtag pack chose to hunker down in the safety of a patch of wood, having gone a week at the very least, on horseback and in the company of a downpour that soured the favorable-weather for four days now.  
  
Chewing on her bottom lip, the elleth studied the runes again.  
  
She had been trying to read them whenever the company would stop to make camp, and so far she was stumped. True that she had neglected lessons on decoding ancient languages when she was an elfling, but not once did she ever think it would come back to bite her in this way...  
  
“No luck, then.” Gandalf surmised, having begun to start smoking his pipe, as she returned the map to his custody before plonking down with him underneath a stout tree.  
  
Eäriel shook her head and withdrew the small knife gifted by Kili from its place at the back of her belt, studying its make out of boredom. “Starting to see why Uncle got frustrated with me...” she grumbled as she traced the pad of her left thumb along the blade's edge.  
  
The wizard puffed on a bit of smoke at the reminder and put in, “that would explain your reputed silver tongue. He said once in a while how difficult it was to keep you focused on lessons.” He had an amused look in his eyes.  
  
“It wouldn't have killed him to make them less tedious…” returned the elleth as she gave him a look from beneath her brow, causing the wizard to crack an amused smirk. Lips twitching into a pout, she looked back at the dwarves and lone hobbit slumbering before adding in her tongue, “ _this would be less of a headache if I could sway him to go there for answers rather than trudge on without knowing what the runes say.”_  
  
“ _Which would be unwise on your part._ ” Gandalf quipped in like tongue, watching her risk a look at one dwarf in particular, continuing quietly, _“you have worked hard enough to secure a stable alliance with him and, as your friend, I would not see you fail._ ”  
  
Eäriel’s face softened at his assurance. _“I will leave it to you, then… between the two of us, you are more tactful when reasoning with kings,_ ” she agreed, straightening to her feet to go take a perch in one of the nearby trees as watch with her bow and quiver on hand.  
  
Watching her go, the wizard smiled patiently.  


  
  


In spite of his somewhat-sore mood at their journey stalling while awaiting the rains to calm, Thorin had let her take a break from night watch for the last few nights. Whether it was because he was being courteous or because she hadn't ruffled his proverbial feathers in the last couple of weeks, she wasn't sure.  
  
Either way it was a nice reprieve that she didn't wish to ruin, so she said nothing.  
  
The company had taken refuge on an overlooking hill with a stout rock carved inwardly that proved suitable for the princes who had been given the task of night watch. As she did not require as much sleep in comparison to her otherwise-male companions, Eäriel sat with the princes as a third set of eyes.  
  
_“Melan_.”  
  
Poking at the fire with a twig before feeding it to the flames, she shook her head and corrected, “there's two ‘ **L** ’s in the word, try sounding it out.”  
  
Off and on, she had been teaching— at the incessant puppy-dog looks from the both of them... she had to remember to maim Kili for starting that— elvish to Fili and Kili. Most of it occurred when Thorin wasn't within earshot but it benefitted her, ironically, given they taught her Khuzdul in like. What Khuzdul they knew had a good count of colorful words thrown into the medley, but everything else was what they learned firsthand from Balin, so it worked out in the end.  
  
Scrunching his face up a bit, Fili tried and said slowly, _“Mel-lon_.” He beamed when his instructor smiled and bobbed her head in an approving nod. Looking to the sleeping dwarves just beyond the amber glow of their fire, he caught pale moonlight winking off Dwalin’s head and looked to his instructor with a grin as he said, “Dwalin is a _mellon_ -head.”  
  
Kili tried to stifle an amused snort but failed as Eäriel coughed to cover up a giggle in like fashion, jibing cheerily, “a friend to what, birds?”  
  
Much to her bemusement, he had been quicker to learn elvish in comparison to his brother. To this day she believed that he had a fancy for elves… it seemed all three of them took heart that his crotchety uncle wasn't aware of that little secret.  
  
Shaking her head before looking at their slumbering companions when catching movement, the elleth calmed at recognizing a familiar head of curly hair tip-toe his way over to the ponies. A thoughtful smile crossed her lips at the halfling's kindness in giving an apple to his chestnut pony Myrtle.  
  
“His head makes for a nice shiny perch for ‘em, if you ask me…” Fili snickered, drawing her from her observations only moments before a shrill screech cut into the night like a hot knife.  
  
Eäriel stiffened in her seat at Kili’s left, scanning the darkness beyond their camp as, out of instinct, she had reached for a knife tucked into her boots. It was then that Bilbo jumped slightly before he looked to them seated by the fire and darted over, reminding her of a spooked rabbit.  
  
Poor lad wasn't used to the frights the Wild had for them, and she would admit she pitied him for it.  
  
“What was that?” Bilbo hissed as he dared a look over his shoulder at the darkened wood beyond their overlook.  
  
Another screech sounded, only fainter than the first, and Kili spared a glance at the sky beyond the covering as he mused, “sounds like orcs.”  
  
_“’Orcs’!_ ” Bilbo parroted a bit more audibly, and Eäriel minded that the word made Thorin startle awake nearby, chewing her lower lip to ward away a smirk at his reminding her of a spooked cat.  
  
“Throat-cutters,” supplied Fili in a grim tone, recognizing the fear on the poor halfling’s face and taking a drag from his pipe as he added, “the lowlands will be crawlin’ with them.”  
  
Kili caught on to his brother’s ploy and failed to ward off a smirk, looking to their spooked audience with warning in his voice, “quick and quiet they are, but no screams... just lots of blood.”  
  
Palming her forehead at their teasing, Eäriel whacked the back of Kili's head and shot an equally-scolding look at Fili when Bilbo turned away to survey the darkness with a newfound anxiety. “I swear, the both of you…” she hissed.  
  
“You think a night-raid by orcs is funny, then?” Rumbled Thorin as he stood then to also look on his nephews with reproach, albeit he was more effective.  
  
The princes shared a guilty look, resembling a pair of kicked pups, before Fili supplied quietly, “didn’t mean anythin’ by it, Uncle...”  
  
“'Course not. You’re still young, and therefore know nothing of the world…” Thorin stated with a slight snort, still catty about being awoken for no good reason, leaving them to survey the dark out of the amber light of the fire as the thought of orcs left him embittered.  
  
Eäriel watched him go with a concerned furrow of her brow before she folded her arms at her chest and gave a slight sigh.  
  
“Don’t mind him, lads,” Balin assured the princes and hobbit as he leaned against the covering’s rocky wall, also looking at their leader before adding, “Thorin’s got more cause than most to hate orcs.” Earning a mild look from the lone woman, he then recounted the tale of the Battle of Azanulbizar, bringing back memories the older dwarves present could remember vividly as if it were only yesterday.  
  
It was a fond memory given it was when they first met, she deemed, though the story was nothing to be happy about.  
  
Thorin turned back to the others when Balin’s tale ended and the night calmed in the seconds that followed, minding his kinsmen that had once been asleep now standing in salute to him… he looked past them to regard their elf with some surprise as he saw pride in her eyes. A smile threatened to stick to his bearded face as he gave a nod to his companions, shuffling to cross to the other end of their overlook.  
  
“The pale orc… what happened to him?” Bilbo asked quietly as he recalled the Gundabad ilk that had been defeated by the dwarf lord.  
  
Thorin scoffed in disgust at the mention and answered for Balin, “slunk back into the hellhole from whence he came... that beast died of his wounds long ago.”  
  
Gandalf and Balin shared a look that was not missed by Eäriel who dropped her gaze to her knees she had drawn to her chest.


	4. an abject moment

Brand’s ears flicked to and fro as he slowed to a trot, sensing his rider's mild anxiety that had strengthened a degree when she reluctantly dismounted.  
  
An abandoned house was situated in the overgrown greenery of what had once been a farm, and she gripped the reins for her stallion out of habit with a frown on her brow as she surveyed the ruins.  
  
Whatever had happened to this place left a bad taste in her mouth and she didn’t care for it at all.  
  
“Eäriel, you’re on watch tonight,” Thorin delegated as she had dismounted her steed, earning a slight nod before she left him to inspect the ruined house.  
  
“A farmer and his family once lived here…” Gandalf commented as he had paused in what had once been the front room, looking to the owner of the softer set of feet that had followed him into the shell.  
  
Eäriel lifted a hand to touch a frame beam of the doorway, musing, “this is too close to the Trollshaws… we'll have to find somewhere else to bed for the night, Thorin.” She said the last part to their leader who had approached them to be in the proverbial know.  
  
Cocking a dubious brow at her concern he found to be overall misplaced, Thorin surveyed the ruined home they stood in before replying, “it looks sturdy for another night at least, so we stay.”  
  
“I’m afraid I must disagree, Thorin, for it would be wiser to make for the Hidden Valley.” reasoned Gandalf, catching the quick glance from their elleth when the named dwarf lord stiffened at his suggestion.  
  
“I've told you before that I refuse to go near **that** place.” Thorin clipped as he scowled up at the wizard.  
  
Having known moreso than expected such a response, Eäriel folded her arms at her chest and reasoned, “for the gods' sakes, Thorin, you know as well as I that Lord Elrond could not only house us for a night but give advice regarding those runes. We'll be one step closer to Erebor if we head there, to boot.”  
  
Thorin bristled a bit at recognizing she was in agreement with the wizard, shifting his scowl to her. “The last thing we need is help from **elves** of all people. Count yourself blessed that you are the one elf we've trusted thus far, but I'm not about to go waltzing off to beg for help from the same turncoats that didn't aid us when we needed it...!” He stated firmly.  
  
“Elrond is **not** Thranduil!" Eäriel fired back in the same tone, digging her proverbial heels in as their stares clashed, adding if only to return to their main argument, “I say we leave this place before the beasts that ruined this farm come back to kill us in our sleep.”  
  
“It seems you've forgotten that **you** are not leading this company, **elf**. We stay tonight.” Thorin finalized with what patience he could muster, watching her mouth open for a second before it clamped shut so her lips formed into a thin line as she took a half-step back.  
  
Nostrils flaring, Eäriel leveled him a sore look before she broke stares to leave the ruins at an angered stride.  
  
Looking up when seeing the lone woman step out into the clear afternoon, Bilbo regarded the peeved furrow of her brow and chose to ask, "Eäriel, is everything all right?"  
  
“Bebother and confusticate **that** thickheaded tosspot!” Eäriel bit out with a flippant gesture at the house before pulling Brand by the reins to the nearby thicket where they were to put the ponies for the night.  
  
Balin, who Bilbo had been helping with the tack of his pony Daisy, regarded where the she-elf had strode off from in such a state before he shook his head and smiled wryly.  
  
Still left in the dark and even moreso when he took Balin's smile into account, Bilbo watched Gandalf shortly storm off from the brief meet he and Eäriel had had with Thorin, asking the fuming wizard, “erm, Gandalf? Where’re you going?”  
  
“I’m off to speak with the only person who’s got any sense around here!” Gandalf said snippily over his shoulder.  
  
“And who’s that, exactly…?” Bilbo dared wonder.  
  
“ **Myself** , Mr. Baggins!” Snapped Gandalf.

  
  


“Been gone a while, now…”  
  
“Who?”  
  
“Gandalf.”  
  
Bofur rolled his eyes at the hobbit’s anxiety that was clear as day even to a blind man, spooning a helping of stew into the second bowl before doing the same for the third as he assured, “he’s a wizard, comes and goes as he likes!” Presenting the bowls to him, he then added, “take these to the lads and lass, will you?”  
  
Bilbo accepted the bowls as the hat-wearing dwarf shooed his brother's chubby paw from the ladle and said he already had his helping, approaching the tall tree towards the edge of camp where their elf had taken position of watchman. He doubted the fluidity of an elf scaling a tree would ever cease to amaze him, really... furry feet coming to a halt at the base of the tree's thick roots, he looked up at the otherwise-darkened leaves and spotted the teal of her tunic sleeve. “Eäriel? Brought you some stew.” He announced, hearing a rustling of leaves answer him.  
  
Eäriel dropped down on sure feet seconds later with her bow and quiver on one shoulder, offering a sheepish look to the hobbit who had stepped back to avoid breaking her fall. “I **could** eat, actually,” she said with a smile in thanks as she took the offered bowl before glancing at the other two he carried and nodded slightly to the nearby thicket with the observation, “'s a bit dark in there.”  
  
“It is, yes, but it doesn't look too bad…” Bilbo assured with a slight chuckle, blinking when she then set her bowl down on one particularly risen root and shouldered her bow to take one of the bowls from his other hand, asking, “aren’t you going to eat?”  
  
“Feeding those two comes first, doesn't it? C'mon, watch where I step,” Eäriel instructed patiently before leading the way into the forest.  
  
Bilbo didn't hesitate to follow, mirroring where to place his feet as she continued into the dark, glad for her help as her eyes were best. “Suppose you don’t know where Gandalf went, either,” he wondered as he believed that if anyone knew the wizard better than the dwarves, it was her.  
  
“Can't have gone far, wherever he went, as he and I both know Thorin would have a right fit were he to leave for good," assured the elf somewhat nonchalantly, stepping over a root that would otherwise trip her and glancing back at him to add for his benefit, “he'll return, you'll see.”  
  
Nodding despite having almost tripped on a root, the hobbit righted his footing and wondered for curiosity's sake, “is Thorin always like that?”  
  
“Just when his pigheaded tendencies get the better of him…” Eäriel lamented with plenty chagrin.  
  
Bilbo gave a quiet scoff at her tone, finding it an irony that she was also one to lose her patience with the dwarf lord, asking, “but he trusts you, doesn't he... does that not mean anything?” He paused to look at her as they neared the ponies.  
  
Also pausing, Eäriel loosely ran a hand through her hair she had drawn into a high tail, answering, “aye, it does, but it's bad luck on both our parts that dwarves rarely forget the past.” She broke away when spotting the princes and went to Fili's left, frowning a bit at finding he and Kili had their attention focused on where the ponies stood asleep.  
  
Bilbo approached them and offered the bowl in hand to Kili, regarding where they were staring and frowning as well, asking them, “something wrong?”  
  
Kili spoke up first, “we’re supposed to keep watch of the ponies…”  
  
“Only we've got a slight problem. There were originally seventeen, and now we've got… fifteen.” Fili finished as he did a third recount in his head, brow furrowed at the sight.  
  
Having also counted the steeds, her stallion Brand and Gandalf's mare Rose included, Eäriel found they were correct. Taking a second glance at their steeds, she lightly elbowed Fili and urged, “c'mon, let's check to see if they wandered off.”  
  
Without another word, the odd quartet separated and searched among the surrounding trees, regrouping near the ponies after having no luck.  
  
“Daisy and Bungo are missing,” Kili said grimly as he circled one side of the small herd and Fili did the same for the other side.  
  
“Well that's not good... shouldn’t we tell Thorin?” Bilbo asked as he looked at the older prince.  
  
Fili shook his head and fought a visible wince at already hearing the scolding from his dear uncle, being first to decline, "no… s' best to not worry him with something like this.” He then looked at the halfling and proposed, “though as you're our official burglar, now, we thought you'd want to look into it?”  
  
“Oi…” Eäriel grumbled under her breath as she had shuffled away from the trio and came across a tree that had been uprooted by something… _big_. “Um, lads?” She beckoned in an uncharacteristically small voice, nodding at the tree when Bilbo, Fili, and Kili came to inspect what she found.  
  
“W-well that’s definitely not good,” Bilbo said with a gulp, deducing more to himself, “something big uprooted these trees…”  
  
Fili nodded at that before looking past the dark at spotting an amber glow. “Look, a light!” He said, earning the trio’s attention, being first to get closer to it before Eäriel quickly followed with Kili and Bilbo bringing up the rear.  
  
Giving a reflexive squeeze on the weathered metal of her bow's curve, Eäriel grumped at recognizing why her anxiety had kicked in with vigor only moments ago. “Bloody glorious,” she muttered as they stopped at hearing a loud laugh come from the second campfire only yards away.  
  
“What is it?” Bilbo whispered, looking between the quieted elf and the princes, from his place on her right.  
  
“Trolls!” Kili groused prior to hopping over the grounded log with Fili at his heels and Eäriel not far behind, leaving Bilbo to lag at the tail.  
  
After doubling to grab the bowls he had left on the top of the log, the hobbit recognized that he had lost sight of his companions. He started to panic before a hand fisted in his coat scruff and yanked him into the safety of the nearby bushes, quickly looking at the owner only to take heart at finding Eäriel who looked from him to then regard the lumbering gray beast that passed them by with another pair of ponies tucked under its arms.  
  
“He’s got Myrtle and Minty!” Bilbo hissed once it was safe for them to regroup, scowling in the troll's wake before looking at the princes as he added, “we need to do something!”  
  
Both brothers looked at him as the elf cocked a brow when seeing the proverbial light come on in their brains… “Yes, you should!” Kili agreed, zipping to usher the halfling after their horse thief, ignoring the beginning protests from him as he reasoned chirpily, “mountain trolls are stupid and slow, but you're tiny enough that they won’t spot you!”  
  
Taking the bowls of cold stew, Fili quickly assured, “we’ll be right behind you so, if you run into trouble, hoot once like a brown owl and twice like a barn owl!”  
  
Muttering the instructions he’d been given, Bilbo stopped when regarding their flawed logic and turned about to question the brothers only to find, much to his dismay, that all three of his companions had left him.  
  
Digging her heels in after having been dragged off by her friends, Eäriel pried her hands free of their grip. Watching both brothers turn to shoot her a mutually-confused look, she said, “someone needs to stay behind and ensure he doesn't get killed.” Even before she said it, she knew of two people off the top of her head that wouldn't enjoy hearing of what happened to their burglar. With that, she shouldered her quiver and turned to go aid Bilbo.  
  
“He’ll be fine, Eäri, at least until we get Uncle!” Kili declared in her wake.  
  
“Then be quick about it, both of you. I’ll be fine,” she instructed with a hard look that darkened her eyes meant for whatever trouble the hobbit could get into with those trolls… she shook her head a bit and started off.  
  
Regarding her resolve and finding he had seen it somewhere else, Fili conceded, “be careful, Eäri.” He earned an aimless wave of the hand before he turned to head back to camp and urged Kili follow their leave through the trees.  
  
Eäriel retraced their steps with ease, hopping over another grounded log in the way as she welcomed the scents and sounds of the night around her. Coming up to the trolls’ camp, she then darted into the shadows and planted her back against the trunk of a tall tree only yards out of the firelight.  
  
Ensuring that her footwork stayed silent, she kept to the shadows and scaled the nearby tree that was just as thick and blessedly still standing. She found sanctuary on a sturdy branch high enough to keep watch of the camp and hide her in the same breath, lying on her belly and looking on the trolls below.  
  
It wasn't difficult to locate the ponies that had been taken, stragglers that had been on the edge of the clustered herd, their nervousness not gone amiss by her senses. Sharp eyes shifting from them to the head of curly hair that kept to the shadows as she had, she kept her gaze fixed on Bilbo while the trolls were going on between themselves about how to cook the ponies. Ducking down when the middle troll moved, Bilbo straightened as she imagined he was thinking of how to set their steeds free of the makeshift holding pen the trolls had made.  
  
_Not wise to set them free now_ , she thought, as only the gods knew what would happen if the trolls found his sneaking self. Even as she kept surveillance on the camp, Eäriel wondered why they had decided to come so far south.  
  
The Ettenmoors were further along the northeast, she knew, yet here three trolls had made camp so damn close to elf territory. She didn't need a map, ironically enough, as she knew their path could easily cross to the Bruinen River and the ford as well… they were almost there…  
  
The trolls would still be an issue.  
  
Movement below suddenly drew her back to reality, and the elf inwardly swore as the trolls finally found him and encircled the frightened halfling. She started to move to go to his aid but paused when the second troll spoke to their thief.  
  
“... Never 'eard of one of those!” The second troll declared dubiously.  
  
The third and skinniest of the trolls wondered, “can we cook ‘im?” Sniffing at the burglar, he gave a crude chortle to then add, “guess we can try!” He proceeded to try and grab Bilbo who wasted no time in scrambling away to keep out of the other's grip.  
  
Bilbo managed to run and nearly got to the dark edges of the camp when a large hand grabbed his leg from behind, giving a yelp as he was lifted high by the leader of the trolls who proceeded to ask if he was alone. “Y-yes, just me!” He squeaked out.  
  
Eäriel reached to draw one of her long knives from her back to aid her comrade before pausing again when a head of brown hair broke through the brush below to cut into the soft flesh of the back of the skinny troll’s legs. The troll squealed in pain and the reckless brunette dashed into the amber light of the fire… she made a mental note to clock him for being so impulsive.  
  
“Drop him!” Kili shouted, and when the largest of the troll trio demanded he repeat himself, he brandished his sword and repeated, “you heard me, _‘drop him’!_ ” He wasn’t ready for the troll to do better than that as Bilbo was thrown at him full-front, making both dwarf and burglar hit the ground.  
  
A resounding battle cry rang out just then as the remaining twelve dwarves rushed into the light of the fire to attack the trolls, their stout bodies weaving around the beasts to beat and stab, causing quite a ruckus.  
  
“For the love of…” Eäriel hissed, cursing the dwarves’ stubbornness even as she kept her place in the tree, knowing and hoping that the trolls didn't grow a brain to stomp on her stout companions.  
  
It wasn’t long before the trolls grew half a brain and snatched Bilbo after he had set the ponies free, threatening to rip his arms off if the dwarves didn't comply. She gritted her teeth to silence a frustrated growl as she seriously contemplated killing Thorin for being so damn bullheaded, praying however vainly that their ragtag company would make it until dawn.  
  
Thorin glowered up at the trolls as he was currently embroiled in an internal struggle of where to place his anger... at this moment it was the trolls, but overall he felt the true honor went to that she-elf who had conveniently made herself scarce. With a certainty for vengeance screaming in his tightened blue orbs, he broke the tense silence that clogged the air to stab his sword's blade into the ground and therein made the other dwarves also drop their weapons.  
  
Eäriel was in trouble, that much he promised. Fili and Kili had said she’d turned back to help their burglar, yet she was nowhere to be found! Thorin pondered this with pronounced irritation as he and the others were forced into their undergarments and half were put onto the log-of-a-spit over the fire while the rest (himself included) were put into burlap sacks tossed to the side. Briefly glad Bombur hadn’t landed on him, and shooting one of his most deadly of glares at the trolls, the row between he and the she-elf resurfaced to stick itself square in the fore of his mind.  
  
What part of him that still mistrusted her kind entertained the thought of her and the wizard abandoning them, possibly for good. He was foolish to not have made her sign that contract, at the very least in blood…  
  
“... making a terrible mistake!” Bilbo’s small voice jarred Thorin from the morbid thoughts that took residence in his head, and the halfling hobbled to his feet as best he could while in the burlap sack. Under better circumstances, Thorin would’ve cracked an amused smirk at the sight.  
  
“Don't try reasonin' with them, they’re half-wits!” Dori called from the spit.  
  
Also on the rotating spit, Bofur chimed flippantly, “then what's that make us?”  
  
_Intelligent_ , thought Eäriel as she kept silent and watched the trolls turn their attention to Bilbo. Despite every impulsive bone in her body screaming at her to help her friends, she stayed put in her tree. As Gandalf had decided to keep his distance, she deemed that the dwarves needed a savior and she was the only option.  
  
“Wha' _about_ the seasonin’?” The lead troll scoffed dubiously.  
  
Quick on his feet, leaving the she-elf to start wondering if she wasn't the only one with a silver tongue, the halfling replied, “have you smelt them? You’re going to need something stronger than sage before plating _this_ lot up!”  
  
The elleth's nostrils flared with a silent and steady inhale when the dwarves yelled ‘ _traitor’_ simultaneously and, for a moment, she didn’t know who was swearing more, Dwalin or Bifur.  
  
“What do _'oo_ know about cookin’ dwarf?” The second troll demanded before the cook troll shushed him and urged the hobbit continue.  
  
“Um, the secret to cooking dwarf is…” Bilbo began only to then glance up at catching the flicker of light from a tall tree behind the second troll, locking stares with a pair of blue eyes that shortly replaced the reflected light. Giving a slight nod at realizing with relief that she hadn't abandoned them after all, he caught the second troll picking him for an answer. “Yes, I’m telling you!” He said snippily, knowing even as the proverbial light came on that _none_ of the dwarves were going to like his answer in any sense… he answered, “the secret is to… to skin them first!”  
  
Eäriel considered palming her forehead when his answer earned an outraged cry from the dwarves, lowering her knife and looking beyond the tree’s foliage at distinctly hearing a rush of feet not far from the camp. Grinning at catching a hint of gray robes, she resumed watching the scene just as Bilbo stopped the skinny troll from eating Bombur by saying he was infected with worms.  
  
“We don’t have parasites... _you’re_ the one who’s got parasites!” Kili accused of their burglar.  
  
Eäriel chewed her lower lip to swallow an exasperated groan at the dwarves' naiveté, lifting her knife to reflect the campfire light so the sacked dwarves could see it.  
  
To her luck, Thorin was the one to spot the strange flicker of light, his stormy eyes squinting at it before he locked stares with the blade's owner who was watching from the tree's shelter. _That_ was where she had been hiding… with Bilbo's diversion now making total sense, the dwarf lord pulled his leg back best he could in the burlap sack and then sharply kicked Kili, giving a brief nod at Bilbo when those with him looked his way.  
  
The dwarves paused a moment before Oín exclaimed, “I’ve got parasites as big as my arm!”  
  
“Mine are the biggest parasites, I’ve got _huge_ parasites!” Kili chimed, hearing Fili’s agreement nearby as the other dwarves put in that they, too, were riddled.  
  
Eäriel grinned and stifled a snicker at the dwarves' ruse, watching the cook troll round on Bilbo when the dots connected, calling him a ferret in the process. She started to get up again but stopped at catching the pale blues of dawn that started bleeding into the dark sky above the trees, her grin returning at the end to a rather long night.  
  
_“Let the dawn take you instead!_ ” Gandalf’s voice boomed as he appeared atop a fat boulder blocking the sun from the trolls with his staff brandished in one hand. As the trolls were debating between themselves on snagging him as well, he struck the boulder and cracked it open down the middle so bright sunlight burst forth and immobilized the cursing and grimacing trolls who turned to stone where they stood.  
  
The dwarves gave a joyful noise at their hides being saved, and Eäriel laughed softly in relief before her gaze fell on Thorin who shared in his kinsmen's joy. Regarding the elated smile on his bearded face, one she rarely saw in the years she had known him, her eyes softened.  
  
Pausing as he had entered the camp to check on the dwarves, Gandalf found the elleth who came out of hiding to land in a crouch with one of her long knives between her teeth, smiling at her as she straightened and stepped away with the knife in hand to start cutting the dwarves free. “I'm surprised you weren’t caught, Eäriel,” he greeted with some relief.  
  
“I would've, if I had jumped in, but our dear Bilbo basically saved the day so I held back,” Eäriel admitted as she set the named halfling free, giving him a wink before passing by to start with the bagged dwarves.  
  
Thorin eyed the female as she finished cutting Oín free of the bag, moving to cut Fili loose, then Bombur and Kili, lastly moving to cut him free. He sat up a bit once he was left with room, looking at her as their stares locked.  
  
Eäriel held his stare with some guilt for not being of help, lifting a brow when he nodded as an equally-guilty look graced his bearded face. Eyes soft again, she shrugged when he looked to her, silently saying there was nothing to forgive.  
  
Thorin stayed still when she shuffled closer to cut him free, both hearing and feeling the blade of her knife rip through the burlap as if it were butter, angling his way out of the sack as she stepped away. At earning a curious lift of her brow as he minded the sunlight that winked off her knife being returned to its scabbard, he shook his head and offered a slight smile.  
  
Recalling his elated smile from before, Eäriel nodded and let him pass by before stepping away to inspect the troll statues with a soft exhale.  
  
Having been witness to the silent exchange from the patch of clearing where both he and his brother had been redressing themselves, Kili sulked, “Uncle’s got all the luck, doesn’t he?”  
  
Fili minded their elf who was examining one of the immobilized trolls, smiling thoughtfully as he placed his knives back in their designated places. “They’re both pretty bullheaded, Kee,” he reminded.  
  
Though, if he didn’t know better, he would’ve thought just being around Eäriel again was softening up his dear uncle.  
  
“As I suspected, they must’ve come from the Ettenmoors.” Eäriel thought aloud with a pensive frown crossing her face.  
  
Gandalf nodded as he was of like mind, looking past the trolls to the wood and musing, “why this far south, though…”  
  
“Since when do mountain trolls venture this way?” Thorin asked as he joined the two, looking to the wizard with an arched brow.  
  
“Not for an age, at least…” Gandalf answered thoughtfully as he adopted a look that the dwarf lord found unreadable.  
  
Eäriel warded away a bristle at the implication of some dark force causing the trolls to come their way, pondering if only to change subject, “they can't move in daylight, so however they came here must've shielded them completely…”  
  
“There's got to be a cave nearby,” Thorin deduced as he shared a look with her.

  
  


Gathering what they could, the dwarves left the wood to soon come across a low entrance of the cave that the trolls had used. Wrinkling her nose at the horrid stench fumigating the cave, the elf followed shortly behind Thorin and Gandalf with Bilbo at her side as the other taller member of their company warned them to not touch anything.  
  
Thorin broke away when, after he had found a torch and lit it, its amber glow highlighted a barrel full of what appeared to be swords. Intrigued by the various abandoned weapons, he reached into the barrel to withdraw a long and flat sword that was too tall for him, offering it to Gandalf who had followed him over. Locating a shorter sword with a curved hilt and blade that resembled an arched cleaver more than a sword, he lifted it from the barrel and looked at the other sword that had leaned on it.  
  
The third blade was shy of the first by a few inches, he figured, but its make looked akin to the one he had picked… given its height and handle, he recognized this sword was not meant for any dwarf.  
  
“Eäriel.” He beckoned, turning to face her when she shuffled away from the others and handing the third sword to her. Their eyes met and he regarded that she was touched by his gesture, giving him a smile of thanks before stepping away to study the new weapon. Smiling albeit privately at her gratitude, he looked on the shorter sword he wielded and mused, “these swords weren’t made by trolls…” He doubted they were made by men either, dwarves even less, as he had a sinking feeling the trolls had taken these weapons from meals that they had made of others.  
  
“These are from Gondolin, forged by the High-Elves of the First Age!” Gandalf recognized as he had also examined his sword's make.  
  
Regarding the pause Thorin took when drawing his new sword and the sore look that drew his brows together, Eäriel rolled her eyes and put in, “these swords still hold power despite their age, master dwarf, so you can't wish for a better blade in my opinion.”  
  
Thorin shot her a look that went ignored, exhaling through his nostrils and drawing the curved blade, minding she was right… _yet again_. The fact of their encounter with the trolls being caused by his pigheadedness made his sore look linger, and he sheathed the sword to keep it. Giving an indifferent grunt, he strode away to take point of their party, urging blandly, “c’mon, let’s leave this foul place. Bofur, Glóin, Nori!” He beckoned the trio he passed as they were busy stowing a chest of gold away on the side of the path, hearing the elleth's softer footsteps follow him in seconds.  
  
Wiping dust off the hilt before fastening the sword's thick belt at her waist, Eäriel looked up as they found the cave's exit deposited into a rather-tangled forest. True that she was touched Thorin had given her the sword rather than leave it behind, but she was moreso prone to using knives and daggers along with her trusted bow. She could wield a sword, yes, though this relic would most likely take some getting used to… feeling eyes on her, she looked up only to meet his stormy gaze and bristle softly at finding he had been surveying her handling of his gift.  
  
Blue met blue and she cocked a brow to then nod her chin at the shorter relic he had pinched.  
  
Thorin's brow twitched at the expectant look gracing her pretty face, looking elsewhere while folding his arms at his chest and pretending he didn't already hear her sing-song teasings that she had yet to voice.  
  
There were moments when she left him to his own devices, mostly out of respect, and then there were moments when she acted more like an imp than an elf, annoying him to no end… elves were impossible.  
  
A cracking of the brush from the north of their clearing jerked both dwarf and elf's respective attention to reality, and the latter reached for the bow at her back on habit as the former alerted their companions, “something’s coming!”


	5. garab

“Thieves, fire, murder!” A furious cry sounded as more breaking in the brush’s twigs and flying of leaves signaled the coming of their unexpected guest.  
  
Eäriel lowered her hand as she first caught sight of the stranger’s mode of transportation, a team of dun-furred rabbits leading a sled that skidded to a halt just shy of their ragtag pack, looking at their driver who hopped off to regard them all with an accusatory look. “Radagast,” she declared.  
  
“Radagast the Brown!” Gandalf shared in the elf’s surprise yet he took heart at seeing the lesser Istari, stepping up to him and asking when the named party looked to him with relief, “what on earth brings you here?”  
  
Thorin was, for all intents and purposes, befuddled at the arrival of the second wizard. He looked at the elf who was first to recognize the newcomer, meeting her gaze with a question about to be voiced, only to earn an innocent and daresay sheepish shrug from Eäriel.  
  
“…I had the thought, and now I’ve lost it! Right on the tip of my tongue it was…” Radagast said as he scrunched up his face, before the thought struck him, adding, “’s not a thought at all, but a silly old…” his next words were rather garbled as he had opened his mouth in the process, but the elf could make out _‘stick insect_ ’. Gandalf chose to be the brave one and withdraw said creature from its place on his friend’s tongue.  
  
Giving a soft snort at the overall-disgusted looks her companions sported at the sight, Eäriel stepped up to the two wizards and greet the shorter with a warm smile on her lips, “you haven’t changed a bit since last we met, Radagast.”  
  
“Goodness, I thought I recognized you, my dear Eäriel!” Radagast beamed at seeing the she-elf’s smiling face, stepping up to give her a quick embrace that she reciprocated before drawing back to frown and scold, “it has been years since I last saw you, and you didn’t bother to say goodbye, either! You should know better than that, Wolf Child.” The others present could swear what transpired before them was something akin to a grandfather speaking to his grandchild.  
  
Eäriel distinctly heard one of the dwarves snort in amusement, daring a scowl at them, before she lifted her hands a bit in surrender and agreed, “I know, but I’ve been busy ever since! I apologize, my friend.”  
  
“Radagast, you came to seek me out for something?” Gandalf asked of the other to both bring him back to reality and save the elleth from further scolding.  
  
“Oh yes, right!” Radagast nodded, leaving the odd pack to follow Gandalf off to speak in private.  
  
There was nothing that was _too_ private… at least not with her ears…  
  
“… worst are the webs," said Radagast in a grim tone, one that was rare to hear coming from the generally-gentle Istari.  
  
Frowning at that, as she had scarcely seen the beasts responsible for the webs in the last few decades, Eäriel half-wondered what else had been going on in her absence from the Woodland Realm…  
  
_“’Wolf Child_ ’ seems a suitable petname for you.” Thorin observed, yanking her out of her reverie, and he was studying her when she recognized he had turned his attention to her again.  
  
Giving a sniff as she tried to ward away the embarrassed heat from coloring her cheeks, Eäriel began to open her mouth for a retort only to then feel a shift in the air. She looked off to the north end of their clearing and her upper lip curled a bit at sensing the newest intruders beyond the brush.  
  
Thorin, watching her tense in place, started to ask what she heard when a low baying howl cut into the morning air like a hot knife, the noise causing the others to startle, and he looked at her again as she drew her bow with an arrow nocked.  
  
“W-was that a wolf? There're wolves out there, aren't there?” Bilbo asked of the group, looking away from scanning the clearing to the dwarves and then to the elf who had a hard look in her eyes.  
  
Bofur clutched his pick-axe as he replied, “that was not a wolf…”  
  
With a snarl a hulking mass of fur then broke through the brush to pounce on Dwalin, voicing a yelp before silencing when the elf's loosed arrow found its throat.  
  
“Warg scouts!” Eäriel grumbled as she readied another arrow, perking up as a second warg came from south of the clearing to pounce on Thorin who sidestepped the unfortunate mongrel that was cut down by both archers.  
  
Thorin nodded to both Kili and Eäriel, glaring at the beast and grousing, “an orc pack can't be far behind, then.”  
  
_“’Orc pack’?_ ” Bilbo echoed, reflexively stepping closer to the elf as he felt that he could depend on her if none of the dwarves were present.  
  
Gandalf and Radagast reemerged from the brush then, the former turning on the dwarf lord as he demanded, “who did you tell, aside from your kinsmen?”  
  
“Noone, I swear!” Thorin said with exasperation, looking at the dead wargs again and asked in the same tone, “what in Durin’s name is going on?”  
  
Eäriel yanked her arrow from the second warg's forehead and stated, “whoever owns these mongrels is hunting you… we can't stay or we're dead.”  
  
“Aye, we’ve got to get out of here,” Dwalin agreed.  
  
“We can’t use the ponies, they bolted!” Ori informed them as he and Bifur emerged from the southern incline.  
  
Radagast piped up then, “I’ll draw them off!” He earned sixteen surprised looks from the company.  
  
Speaking on behalf of both he and the elf, Gandalf was quick to remark, “those're Gundabad wargs!”  
  
“These are Rhosgobel rabbits, so…” Radagast countered as he gestured to his sled team, a confident twinkle in his eye that Eäriel recognized too well, as he added, “I’d like to see ‘em try.”

  
  


A baying howl sounded as the wargs gave chase to the rabbit sled through the golden fields.  
  
Gandalf poked his head around a stocky boulder and gestured to his companions to take off in the direction he ran so the dwarves and hobbit shortly followed while the elf kept at the tail to shepherd them along.  
  
Listening to the wargs chase the rabbit sled in the other direction, Eäriel kept her position at the back of their party with an arrow placed in her bow for precaution, knowing that Radagast would survive this like they were going to.  
  
Both their company and the rabbit sled ran in different directions to keep the wargs at bay, the former managing to stay downwind of the orcs' noses. On one instance the allied parties nearly clashed with the company coming to a screeching halt at catching the rear of the orc pack, before Gandalf gestured they duck and go in the opposite direction again.  
  
Drawing Ori to the large boulder they had stopped in the shadow of to catch their breath, Thorin watched the orc pack speed off past them after the rabbits, looking to the tallest of their party who urged they pick up and move again once the pack was out of sight. “Where are you leading us?” He rumbled as he looked up at the wizard from having lingered near the tail.  
  
Gandalf didn’t answer and instead brushed past him to keep point, leaving Eäriel to pick up the tail again as she shepherded Thorin ahead of her.  
  
Blue met blue as he looked back for a second and he almost thought the guilty look from before cross her face but, as soon as he saw it, it fled just as quickly. Eäriel nodded to him and spared a look back to find they were still safe for however long that would be, looking forward with some relief as Thorin had brushed it off to resume his place behind Gandalf.  
  
When they came to a halt at the base of a tall boulder to regain their bearings, Eäriel ducked down between Kili and Thorin as the height of their temporary shelter came shy of her own by half a foot, her breath she had tried to regain hitched in her throat as they heard a set of padded paws hop onto the boulder's flat top.  
  
Thorin inhaled as he heard the warg and orc sniff the air as they seemed to have finally caught onto their party, looking at Eäriel as their stares met and his gaze flicked up to silently urge she and Kili dispose of the scout.  
  
Quick and quiet.  
  
Eäriel nodded a bit before elbowing Kili at her left, locking stares with him and nodding her chin at his bow.  
  
Understanding what they were to do, Kili nodded back and nocked an arrow in his bow as she did hers, looking at the elleth who mouthed “ _on three”_ , and he inhaled steadily.  
  
_One… two… three!_  
  
Eäriel emerged first from their shelter to loose her arrow at the warg's throat as Kili joined her only to fire at the orc's ribs.  
  
The orc gave a shrill shriek of pain as the warg fell at the base of their boulder with it still attached, fighting to live even as both Bifur and Dwalin hacked its body with their respective weapons until it shrieked no more. Even if they silenced the scout, the elleth imagined, much to her disdain, that its cries could be heard for hundreds of miles.  
  
If she didn’t loathe being hunted before, she surely did now that they were left in the open like a caught rabbit.  
  
“ **Run**!” Gandalf commanded, jerking her back to their grim reality, as their ragtag pack wasted no time in following the wizard out onto the golden fields.  
  
Taking a momentary headcount, Eäriel recognized they were shy one and she whipped her head back to see the hobbit lagging behind not thirty yards. "Damn," she grumbled when a stray warg came barreling out from behind a short boulder and right for the little burglar… stuffing a hand into her left boot, she withdrew a throwing knife just as the warg drew closer to Bilbo's heels, and she flicked her wrist to send the knife flying for the beast's furry face.  
  
A yelp sounded behind Bilbo and he looked back only for a moment to see the warg that had been on his tail dropped back to have been felled with a knife stuck between its eyes. He looked for the owner only to run to her side as she had lingered to let him catch up, wheezing out a _‘thank you_ ’ as she shepherded him with her to the trio of rocks where the others had made a stand.  
  
Thorin spotted the elf as she and the hobbit had finally rejoined them, for a moment taking heart that they were a ragtag pack again, watching the arrows she fired from her bow streak through the air to cut down whichever scout or warg got too close. He looked away to regard that the scouting party fanned out to surround them on all ends.  
  
Sticking her bow into the grass near her left foot, Eäriel drew the new sword from its scabbard and heard it sing before she cut down the hasty warg that rushed the hobbit she shielded, minding that the blade glowed a brilliant teal in the sun. She smiled at recognizing how finely crafted it was.  
  
“Where’s Gandalf?” Dori demanded after risking a look around them and finding the named wizard vanished.  
  
“He’s left us!” Glóin scoffed.  
  
Eäriel and Bilbo had drawn closer to the trio of rocks behind them, and the former rounded on both dwarves to silence their doubt with defense, “Gandalf wouldn’t abandon his friends!” She turned away at hearing another snarling warg rush them only to snarl in return and behead it.  
  
“Hold your ground!” Thorin shouted a command as he brandished his new sword, causing his companions to close ranks, and he risked a look over at the steadfast she-elf who smirked ruefully at their pursuers.  
  
“This way, you lot!” Gandalf called as he had emerged from between the three rocks behind them, earning surprised looks from the dwarves before everyone snapped to and scrambled to follow him to safety.  
  
Thorin did a headcount as eleven dwarves and one hobbit slid down into the hiding place, looking about at finding they were shy of his younger nephew. “Kili, run!” He shouted as he spotted the named archer covering their escape less than fifty yards away in the golden fields before the latter turned to run to him.  
  
Kili looked back at hearing an eager warg break rank to chase him, dodging its snapping jaws by a hair's breadth before an arrow streaked past his left cheek to strike the warg right in its frothing maw, a stifled yelp of pain escaping the overgrown wolf, as he barreled right for the trio of rocks and raced past his uncle and their elf to drop down after their comrades.  
  
Lowering her bow only to return it to her quiver, Eäriel regarded Thorin's surprised expression with a nod before she followed Kili's leave.  
  
Thorin quickly followed, dropping back into the shade of the tunnel when they all heard a loud hunting horn cut into the air of the valley.  
  
A rueful smile pulled her lips upward as she took heart at their unofficial cavalry arriving when it did, watching a felled orc drop into their hiding place with an arrow in its jugular. She slipped past Thorin to stick her boot into the side of its face and retrieve the arrow.  
  
Scowling when she beat him to the inspection, Thorin snatched the arrow from her hand and regarded its fine make before grumbling, “elves.” He looked at her as habits that were bone-deep resurfaced and accused, "you knew they would come."  
  
Eäriel puffed up a bit, somewhat miffed about being required to defend her former home again, before retorting, "don't blame me, you should be glad they came when they did."  
  
Having overheard the beginning of another spat, Dwalin rolled his eyes from his place at the end of their troop and called, “I can’t see where the path leads, do we follow it?”  
  
“Obviously follow it,” Bofur answered for the others' sakes, being first to follow the other deeper into the darkened pass.  
  
Gandalf and Bilbo brought up the rear of their pack and Eäriel began to follow them when Thorin seized her wrist from behind. Stiffening for a moment before minding that there were still unfinished matters, she puffed and tilted her head back at him.  
  
Thorin reluctantly let go of her leather-covered wrist to let her lead him, and it was quiet between them for an awkward moment before he broke it, voice quiet, “Kili was basically safe.”  
  
“I would not be a good friend if I didn’t look out for him and Fili, or the rest of you.” Eäriel returned in an equally-quiet tone, finding her previous elation at their path leading to her former home diminished by a degree as the seconds passed.  
  
Not **all** would be happy to be in Rivendell.  
  
“... thank you.”  
  
“The name Radagast called me, it was one I earned when I was in the Woodland Realm… apparently I was too arrogant and wild, in those days, to be considered as just another she-elf.”  
  
Pausing for a moment at the explanation, Thorin heard the thoughtful tone in her voice and he smiled ruefully.


	6. houses of the holy

Watching the sun touch the various buildings with its dying light, bathing the pearly white walls amber, Eäriel gave a soft sigh as the part of her that had longed for home recognized it was longer than a millennia since she had laid eyes on the modest stronghold.  
  
“The valley of Imladris… it has another name in common tongue, though.” Gandalf announced to those in their troop who had scarcely if ever heard of the place.  
  
“Rivendell.” Bilbo said quietly in awe, and there was a smile on his face when the lone woman glanced at him.  
  
Turning to the wizard who looked perfectly calm despite his respective ire, Thorin bit out, “you meant for this all along, to drag us here and seek refuge with our enemy…”  
  
“You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield, never mind that the only ill will present is yours,” Gandalf defended patiently.  
  
“They won't exactly give our quest their **blessing** , will they now? They’ll try and prevent us in some way...” Thorin stated pointedly as his glare barely budged.  
  
Sparing a glance at the heavens above, Eäriel looked to the fuming dwarf and put in, “there are questions we need the answer to, Thorin. You're wasting your breath, for another thing, so listen to reason. **Try**?” She didn't care, for the moment, that her words were the proverbial kick in the ass he deserved.  
  
Gandalf quickly agreed with her so as to avoid wasting time with another argument, “you are quite right, indeed, Eäriel! Now then, if this is to go smoothly then it will need to be handled with tact and charm, to boot… which is why **I** will do all the talking.” 

  
  


Thousands of years could pass and it seemed Rivendell would scarcely change.  
  
Hanging back by the wizard as they crossed the thin bridge that deposited into the entrance courtyard, Eäriel looked to the finely crafted stone structures of her former home to the waterfall further into the settlement that cut into the rock with a wistful smile on her lips as she watched the sun’s light make the gushing river look like it was set ablaze with orange and amber.  
  
Quiet footsteps descending the stairwell that led to the rest of the settlement drew her out of her reverie and the elleth looked to the stairs to recognize the brunette elf. “ _Mithrandir!”_ The ellon greeted the wizard, adding in elvish, _“we heard you crossed into the valley._ ”  
  
“Lindir!” Gandalf returned with a nod to the ellon.  
  
Lindir looked on the elleth standing near the wizard and nodded his head in a measure of respect as he greeted her, _“we did not believe you would return home so soon, Lady Eäriel_.”  
  
Feeling a certain set of stormy eyes digging into her skull from where the dwarves stood, Eäriel ignored the feeling and returned the nod with a slight smile, admitting, _“it has indeed been a long time since we met, Lindir._ ”  
  
“We have come to speak with Lord Elrond,” Gandalf said, retaining common tongue if only to keep their shorter companions calm.  
  
A brief look of uncertainty shone on the ellon’s features as he started in like tongue, “my Lord Elrond is not here…” both his and the elleth's ears perked when a hunting horn sounded, earning everyone's attention as the successful hunting party came galloping down the cliffside with the banners of Rivendell and Lord Elrond dancing in the breeze they.  
  
Eäriel smiled wryly at the return of the lord of the house, her smile faltering when Thorin gave a command for his kinsmen to bustle into a closed-in formation and inadvertently drag poor Bilbo into the middle. Feeling her brow give a twitch at their dramatics, she folded her arms at her chest when the commandeering dwarf lord's eyes swept the courtyard to find her standing aside, watching his gaze tighten before he regarded the hunting party that came to a halt once surrounding their troop.  
  
The head of the taller party, a brunette elf lord that she knew too well, looked to the wizard and greeted with a smile, “Gandalf!”  
  
“Lord Elrond,” Gandalf returned in the same manner, nodding in respect to his friend before reverting to elvish and asking, _“where have you been, my friend?_ ”  
  
_“We were hunting an orc pack that came up from the south_ ,” Elrond replied in the same tongue as he dismounted his dark stallion, adding, “ _slew a number of them near the Hidden Pass…”_ he trailed off at recognizing why the orcs had trespassed so close to his home. He gave a slight shake of the head and stepped up to embrace Gandalf, drawing away to finish in common tongue, “I thought it strange for orcs to come so close to our borders, thinking that something or some _one_ must have drawn them near.” He lifted what appeared to be one of the beast’s crude blades and handed it to Lindir.  
  
“That _might’ve_ been us…” Eäriel relented dryly, watching the older elf's gaze find her after addressing the wizard, offering a smile when his green met her blue before she stepped forward to embrace her former guardian.  
  
Elrond held fast to the brunette elleth, overall relieved she had returned home despite his exasperation at her being involved with the orcs, drawing away and reluctantly letting her go with a rueful smile. “Why does that _not_ surprise me?” He asked in the same dry tone, earning a sheepish look in return.  
  
Stormy gaze fixated on the she-elf who was too chummy with the elf lord to be mere acquaintances, Thorin made a mental note to add that to the growing list of things he would discuss with her once they were alone, looking away with some reluctance when the mentioned Half-Elven turned to greet him.  
  
“Welcome Thorin, son of Thráin,” Elrond greeted the dwarf lord with a nod of respect.  
  
Still fuming about the state of things, Thorin returned in a brittle tone, “I do not believe that we’ve met before.”  
  
“I knew Thrór when he ruled Under the Mountain, and so you have his bearing,” the elf lord observed patiently.  
  
Giving a sniff, the dwarf lord retorted, “ironic given that he never mentioned _you_.”  
  
Eäriel considered clocking his thick skull for being so rude to their host who was going out of his way to be patient with him and minded that the very same elf lord instructed Lindir to prepare a feast for their odd party, his gaze not once leaving the dwarf lord's.  
  
“What does he say… does he give us insult!?” Glóin growled out as he stepped forward, his misunderstanding causing the other dwarves to bristle nearby.  
  
“He is offering food and wine, Master Glóin.” Eäriel translated, earning the attention of her friends even as her eyes locked on Thorin's, and she exhaled through her nostrils before breaking stares to murmur an apology to Elrond and then ascend the nearby stairs that led to the rest of the settlement.

  
  


She had, after being checked for injuries and then given a bath afterward, been ‘ _coerced_ ’ into dressing up for dinner. It was her first night back home, after all, and she had to look her best.  
  
Her jerkins and trousers were a far cry from the gown she had been put into, the teal fabric lightly clinging to her willowy body and the sleeves that reached her elbow… she hadn’t had to wear a dress in so long she had almost forgotten how much she hated the experience.  
  
She paused shy of rounding the corner of the open dining room, knowing by the voices coming from there that her otherwise-male companions had already been seated and were talking amongst themselves about the meal provided... namely of how there was a lack of meat on their plates. Inhaling through her nostrils, she then joined the party and felt the various looks from her friends as she was shown a seat at the front table where Elrond, Gandalf and Thorin sat.  
  
It seemed the first to recognize the beauty that sat with the wizard was actually their company elf was Bilbo. The princes shortly came to the same conclusion and soon the remainder of their company did too, most if not all of the younger dwarves slightly gaping at the change, while the older dwarves took brief respectful glances before returning to whatever conversation they had been in.  
  
Eäriel gave a slight nod to the ellon who helped her into her chair, feeling the bemused gaze of the wizard at her left and grumbling, "not a word."  
  
Gandalf smiled innocently at her warning, knowing their shorter companions had been taken by surprise as this was their first time seeing her outside of her guise as a brave warrior and now a respectable elf lord's daughter... much to his further bemusement, and Elrond's as well, Thorin seemed to still be processing that this was the same Eäriel.  
  
Poking at her food with a fork, the she-elf felt the stare of a certain dwarf lord seated across from her, refusing to meet his gaze.  
  
Gods knew she was going to be hearing it from him soon, with her luck, about how she had claimed to be from the Woodland Realm and not from Rivendell, how she had lied to him all these years... lowering her fork and risking a look from above her brow, her gaze was caught by a pair of blue eyes the muddled color of storm clouds and clear skies, the normally-narrowed stare of the dwarf lord having been ogling her a bit.  
  
Silently cursing the shiver that jolted up her spine at being under his stare, Eäriel began to wonder why he did this to her…  
  
“… understand you acquired a new weapon on your way here, Eäriel.” Elrond’s voice yanked both elf and dwarf from their staring match, the elf lord not surprised in the slightest considering what was transpiring between the odd pair, minding they both blinked once at being jarred from wherever their minds had strayed to.  
  
“O-oh right, yes, I nearly forgot to mention!” Eäriel answered with a quick smile, perking up a smidge when Lindir approached his side with her new sword on hand, straightening in her seat out of pride for the new weapon as it had been polished and cleaned of warg blood.  
  
Elrond drew the sword out a bit from its brown scabbard to marvel at how fine it looked, tracing a finger along the leaf-shaped indentation near the hilt as a thoughtful smile crossed his face.  
  
“Hathelas is the name of this sword, the teal color it turned when orcs or goblins were near giving it such a name, compliments of the late captain of the guard for the High King of Noldor…” returning the sword to its scabbard before he gestured Lindir give the sword to its new master, he added with a wry smile for her, “may it serve you well.”  
  
Eäriel took the sword from Lindir's hand with a bob of her head in thanks, her eyes lighting up at now knowing the proper name for her gifted relic. She was drawn out of her excitement as Elrond looked to the wizard and asked, “however did you come by these?”  
  
Gandalf took a sip of wine before answering, “we found them in a troll hoard on the Great East Road, prior to be ambushed by orcs, that is!”  
  
Both Eäriel and Thorin shot him a simultaneous glance.  
  
“And just what were you _doing_ on the Great East Road?” Elrond asked curiously, having minded both elleth and dwarf lord had suddenly grown quiet.  
  
Thorin then politely excused himself from the table and no sooner did Eäriel do the same, taking her sword with her, conveniently leaving Gandalf and the foot he stuck in his mouth to explain things to Elrond.  
  
Looking at their elf who had found a seat between Bilbo and Balin at the second table, their leader found it difficult to look away from her.  
  
He hated that she was the source of his distraction, as the puzzle of her allegiance with their host sat in the fore of his mind, and despite that his subconscious took plenty note that she looked downright perfect in a gown instead of trousers… he silently cursed his own lack of resistance to her elvish charm that made him question why he still kept her at arms' length.  
  
“…descendants of the House of Durin. They’re noble, decent gents, and surprisingly punctual to boot…” Gandalf was saying, pulling her from listening to the harpist playing a rather soothing tune a bit close to the tables.  
  
Smirking at his bluff, however much of it Elrond believed, Eäriel minded that Gandalf had an interesting view _'noble_ ' and ' _decent'_.  
  
“Change the tune, will you? Feels like I’m at a funeral!” Nori complained as he poked at his ear with his pinkie.  
  
Having stuffed a napkin into his earpiece to drown out the soothing tunes, Oín chimed in, “did someone die?”  
  
Eäriel chuckled and looked to Bofur at hearing him assure the boys that he would _‘liven things up_ ’, proceeding to hop onto the table that he, the princes, and Dwalin sat at to start singing. Briefly risking a look at the head table, she chewed her lower lip at seeing the unamused furrow of Elrond's brow, one that was close to the expression he spared only when she and the twins got into trouble. Looking at the dwarves again, she ducked in time as they had started flinging food about, laughing with them and clapping in tune with the song.  
  
Having been enjoying the ruckus his kinsmen had made thus far of the dining room, Thorin looked to the second table again at hearing their elleth laugh. Ironic given his overall frustration with her, he found that she looked happiest in this moment, being among his kinsmen... _and with him_. He perked up a bit when she looked away from Bofur's dancing self to find his respective gaze, having been feeling it on her for the last few moments, blue locking on blue.  
  
Eyes softening out of some sense of respect for him, she gave a slight shrug before breaking stares to grin at Bofur and offer applause that was shared by his audience.

  
  


Rubbing the back of her neck, a yawn escaped her as she momentarily wondered how long it had been since she had slept so well.  
  
It was the second day of their stay in Rivendell and she knew the dwarves hadn’t picked up and left, given they had been overall exhausted from the run through the Bruinen and the not-so-welcome circumstances of late, so she decided to indulge in being treated like if she had never left home.  
  
Finding the open dining room where their breakfast was held, she paused shy of taking a seat at regarding the few sleepy dwarves and lone hobbit who were already seated and eating quietly. She smiled, glad for a quiet start to the day, and greeted them, "mornin' lads."  
  
“How’d you sleep, lass?” Balin asked from his seat across from the elleth with Ori, deciding to be the polite one as the good night’s sleep had left him feeling content.  
  
Being given a plate of eggs and toast as she had taken a seat next to Bilbo, Eäriel smiled again and admitted, “very well, actually. Sorry I didn’t camp with you lot, Lord Elrond had already given me a room the last time I came here and I didn't want to be rude.”  
  
Bilbo stifled a yawn as he looked at the elleth, wondering with plenty curiosity, “you’ve been here before?”  
  
“It’s been a long time since I have, but Rivendell is rather difficult to forget once you've seen it, I think,” mused the elleth with an innocent shrug between peppering her eggs with salt.  
  
Nodding a bit in agreement, ironic given this was the first time he had been around so many elves, the hobbit started to return to his own plate before jumping a bit when the doors of the dining room were yanked open from the corridor. He quickly looked about to find twin brunette elves with matching surprised looks on their long faces were responsible.  
  
“I told you she was here!” The right-hand ellon said to his twin before they both zipped to hoist the elleth up from her chair with a surprised yelp.  
  
The left-hand ellon had thrown his arms around her in a tight hug, remarking to his brother, “I’m not blind, I can see that!”  
  
Brow twitching at their excitement that she had _not_ missed, she wormed her arms between the brothers and shoved them away so she could breathe. “As much as I’ve missed the both of you, I’m trying to enjoy breakfast!” She snapped, knowing she was the center of attention at the moment and choosing to ignore that, placing her hands at her sides to look on her brothers and dare to ask, “can’t I have a minute of peace for one damn second?”  
  
The twins shared a knowing look before replying in one accord, “ **not in this house**.”  
  
“I still hate when you do that…” Eäriel groused between palming her forehead, ignoring the twins' curiosity at her less-than-graceful gesture, wondering, “where’s Uncle? I thought he would've sent you two off on another venture...”  
  
“He’s busy,” Elrohir answered first, the amused smirk at her being unnerved lingering on his face.  
  
Elladan, also smirking, chuckled a bit as he added, “he’s having Lindir and some of the other servants clean up the Sacred Fountain as it was apparently _‘defiled_ ’ around sunrise…” It was at that moment both he and his twin caught the slight twitch exchanged between the dwarves nearby.  
  
Eäriel also caught the same exchange, feeling her lips quirk up in amusement at putting the pieces together, before she shook her head and lamented, “could’ve at least warned me I'd be kissing any hope of tranquility goodbye…”  
  
“Who’s kissing what?” A familiar voice rumbled when entering the dining room, making her slightly jump as the twins looked past her at the owner of the voice, the mentioned dwarf lord looking between the trio of elves with some curiosity.  
  
“Master dwarf,” Eäriel greeted, silently cursing his _perfect_ timing, turning to greet him and gesture to her brothers as she introduced, “Elrohir and Elladan, sons of Lord Elrond, allow me to introduce you to Thorin Oakenshield.” She silently prayed to every god she knew that her brothers would not embarrass her.  
  
_Even when she knew they would_.  
  
“Elrohir,” the older twin said first, giving a slight bow.  
  
“And Elladan,” the younger twin added, mimicking his brother’s gesture, before they both straightened with a smile and simultaneously said, “ **the pleasure is ours**!”  
  
Thorin could see why they were being scolded, given these two eerily reminded him of his nephews… “Likewise.” He returned, at last looking to the elleth and giving a brief dip of his head in greeting as he greeted coolly, “good morning, Milady.” His eyes lifted from beneath his brow to acknowledge the slight flaring of her nostrils at his sudden formality.  
  
Pretending her brow didn't give a twitch at his gauging her, Eäriel schooled her face into neutrality and folded her arms as she drawled back, “it _was_ indeed a good morning, Master Oakenshield.” She then broke stares with him to return to her seat as the twins took to her free side, pausing when the dwarf lord held her chair out for her. Half-wondering if he was doing so to be a git or to be genuinely courteous, she obliged and sat down to let him push her seat in.  
  
Both sets of blue eyes met and held for a moment that may as well have been an hour before she nodded slightly in thanks, watching him take a seat across from her, and she then focused on her breakfast to pretend he hadn't given himself the same seating as the other night.  
  
“So you are Thorin Oakenshield, then?” Elladan spoke up, minding the slight twitch his sister tried to hide save that both he and Elrohir had picked up on the tension between she and the dwarf lord.  
  
What was life without a bit of fun, they deemed.  
  
Thorin nodded slightly as he was given a plate of food from one of the servants, replying, “aye, though it seems Eäriel has never mentioned you two before today.”  
  
_“Muinthel_ , how could you?” Elrohir looked to his sister with feigned hurt.  
  
Elladan pouted at the suddenly-quiet elleth and agreed, “that’s just rude to not speak so highly of your…”  
  
“ **Cousins** , yes!” Eäriel cut in quickly, smiling at Thorin before she shot a sharp look at her brothers that they understood to mean she would gut them both if they blabbed. Pushing her chair out and straightening to dismiss herself, she barked at the twins in sharp elvish that made them hop to their feet, offering the same smile to her companions. “Please excuse us, gentlemen, for my dearest cousins and I must speak in private…” she ignored the curious look from Thorin and kept her smile in place before turning to shove her brothers out of the dining room and down the corridor.  
  
“Ow, easy on the elbow…” Elladan complained once they had crossed into another corridor en route to her room nearby.  
  
“If I wanted you two to embarrass me at breakfast, I would’ve asked beforehand…” Eäriel declared with thinned patience, releasing the brothers of her grip once they were safely in her room and the door was closed, scowling at them as they took a seat on her bed before she began to pace a bit.  
  
Elrohir rolled his eyes at her anxiety, guessing for the sake of himself and Elladan, “so you’ve not told them everything, then, have you?”  
  
“Not yet, no… haven't exactly had a chance to say anything, either. I honestly don't know when it'll happen, but I wager it'll be soon.” Eäriel replied, pausing in pacing to look on her brothers.  
  
_“Muinthel_ , come on, you’re the sharpest tongue this far west of the Misty Mountains.” Elladan reminded after sharing a brief look with Elrohir, adding at both seeing and sensing her calm, "if anyone can reason with dwarves of all people, it's you."  
  
Giving a soft shake of her head at their faith in her, faith that she had often lacked outside the borders of her former home, Eäriel smiled a little and shuffled to sit between the twins. “When you two aren’t dragging me into your mischief, your comfort is very endearing,” she admitted with a fond smile.  
  
“That was almost a compliment, considering _you've_ been responsible for a few of those ventures,” Elladan remarked with a chuckle as he slung an arm around her shoulders, earning a laugh.  
  
_“’Almost_ ’ is the word,” Elrohir mused before looking at their adopted sister to ask, “so _that_ is the infamous Thorin Oakenshield.”  
  
Knowing without having to look to mind both brothers had the same curious look in their eye, Eäriel made a face as she prodded against her better judgement, “aye…?”  
  
“I’d hope he’s treating our dear sister well... don’t you think, ‘Dan?” Elrohir asked of his twin.  
  
Elladan nodded at that and mused, “hope so, he seems like a right piece of work.”  
  
“You have no idea…” groused Eäriel as she loosely ran a hand through her hair she had left free.  
  
“Does he, then?” Elladan asked with a cocked brow.  
  
“As well as can be expected...” Eäriel answered, pausing for a moment to smile thoughtfully as she added, “he’s a good man, though, beneath the scowls and gruff tone.”  
  
Elrohir shared a look with his brother, smiling with an affectionate nudge to her side as he observed, “seems he fancies you.”  
  
“What’s that for?” Eäriel asked with a guarded furrow of her brow, looking between the twins.  
  
Elladan offered a serene smile, one that made the furrow in her brow linger, as he answered thoughtfully, “Lindir mentioned that the dwarf couldn’t seem to take his eyes off you dolled up in that gown, smiling and all with his nephews…”  
  
“He, I… I think you two need to get your ears checked.” Eäriel said with an indifferent sniff, straightening from her seat and looking at her brothers as she reasoned before they could pry, which she knew they would if given any more momentum, “I’m sure Uncle will want to see you two about something or another, and I'd rather he not think we're up to something… again.”  
  
The twins shared another look before smiling ruefully at her swift change in subject, also straightening to follow her leave. “If he **does** fancy you, I doubt he will wish to pass judgement,” Elrohir said as he looked at her.  
  
Quieting for a moment at the wisdom she imagined came from his own experiences, Eäriel smiled in some defeat and nodded before stepping up to embrace both of her brothers.  
  
Despite whatever would happen regarding the quest, she prayed that she would see her brothers once it was over, even if it was only once.

  
  


As she had believed, they— that is to say Gandalf, Bilbo, Thorin, Balin and herself— met with Elrond that same evening in regards to the map, with the moon halfway high in the sky.  
  
Lingering with Eäriel at the tail of their party, Bilbo regarded the ledge of a cliff Elrond had led them to, watching him stop shy of a short platform made of crystal. For a moment he was awestruck by the moonlight that shone so bright in so small a place and didn't entirely blind them, either.  
  
“…fate is with you, Thorin Oakenshield, as the same moon is out tonight.” Elrond was saying, drawing both company misfits from their respective reveries, as he looked to the named dwarf for a moment before translating the runes, “ _'stand by the gray stone when the thrush knocks, and the dying sun with the last light of Durin’s Day will highlight the keyhole.’”_ Almost like if he knew, which he basically did at this point in time, he glanced at the lone woman who shot a look at the dwarves with a frown starting to furrow her brow.  
  
“ _’Durin’s Day’?”_ echoed the halfling who then looked to Balin for clarification.  
  
Gandalf explained, “when the last moon of autumn and first sun of winter appear in the sky together, that begins the dwarves’ new year.”  
  
“This is ill news,” Thorin commented as he stroked his beard pensively, looking to the wizard and stating, “summer is passing and Durin’s Day will come soon enough.”  
  
“We still have time,” assured Balin who, he noticed, was not the only one to be concerned about their leader.  
  
“For what, exactly?” Bilbo asked again.  
  
Eäriel was the one to answer this time, concern being replaced with rationality as she explained, “to get to the entrance. We stand in the right spot at the exact moment, and then will the door open…”  
  
“That is your purpose, then, to enter the mountain?” Elrond asked at large, his voice reminding the party that they had been less than honest with him until now, and he watched her try to stifle a wince but fail while her companions froze at that moment.  
  
Thorin’s eyes narrowed a bit and he asked quietly, “is there something amiss?”  
  
“Not entirely, though there are some who would deem this quest unwise,” Elrond answered, a cryptic tone in his words that left both elleth and wizard curious, as he returned the map to the dwarf lord.  
  
Gandalf minded that Eäriel grew silent again, choosing to ask, “what do you mean?”  
  
Extending a knowing look to his old friend, Elrond reminded, “you seem to forget, Mithrandir, that you are **not** the only guardian to stand watch over Middle-Earth… Eäriel, might you and I have a word?”  
  
Thorin looked to the named elleth whose nostrils flared albeit briefly before she nodded, refusing to meet his gaze once again, he being forced to look away when Gandalf ushered their odd trio back to the main halls.  
  
Looking to the wood beyond their borders that was cast in the dark of night, Eäriel listened to the quartet's steps fading until she heard nothing before she finally looked to Elrond and mused, “I know you have other guests that await you elsewhere, so whatever you have to say, I imagine you’ll wish to make it quick.”  
  
“Your perceptive mind has yet to dull, even after a millennia...” Elrond observed with a slight huff, otherwise put off about her lack of tact, minding the blasé expression on her face and adding as more of a thought, “Elenathiel would be proud.”  
  
“What is it you wish to say, Uncle?” asked the elleth with a half-sigh, ignoring the slight wince at mention of her mother.  
  
Pausing at hearing the thinning patience in her voice, the elf lord locked stares with her and stated evenly, “since you are being short, then I will return in like... you know that I cannot protect you from whatever Thranduil will do should you cross the Misty Mountains with those dwarves.”  
  
“I bloody-well knew what I was getting into when I decided to accompany them, thank you very much... never mind that **I** wasn't the one to strike up that union, was I now?" Eäriel remarked flippantly, folding her arms at her chest in attempt to ward off the bristle that prickled at her nape.  
  
“It was your mother’s wish that you wed in order to make an alliance with your kindred in the east, and I would not be honoring her wish if you were permitted to scamper off to Erebor.” Elrond reminded sharply, distinctly recalling the last time he had argued with his headstrong _'daughter_ '.  
  
Puffing up out of defense, Eäriel retorted, “my life is mine to direct, Uncle! You doubt Thorin, and his quest as mad as it is, I know you do... but I will not abandon him.” Saying no more and stepping back as her eyes burned with renewed determination, she turned to stride away down the corridors the others had passed through.

  
  


Minding the gentle moonlight that touched the pillars of the lonely corridor she had wound up in, she gave a soft exhale as her mood settled the longer she stood there in solace.  
  
It wasn’t like this was the first time they had argued, as the argument they had had when she left home the first time was one she doubted she would ever forget… smiling wryly, she straightened from having rested her hip against a pillar and continued to the patio the dwarves had been given as instinct drove her to seek out her friends for some measure of sanity.  
  
She was just shy of their patio by a short corridor's length when a hand caught her wrist from the intersection at the right, causing her to stiffen before recognizing the owner of the hand by his grip alone. Looking at her captor as blue met blue, she lifted a brow before he broke stares to lead her back down the corridor. Her captor kept his grip on her tunic sleeve as he dragged her to one of the more secluded alcoves, at last bringing them both to a halt.  
  
Instead of resistance or defiance as he had expected of her, the elleth only looked at him with that blasé expression on her pretty face, flicking her gaze down to his hand that had custody of her sleeve and meeting his tightened stare with some curiosity.  
  
Releasing her wrist with some reluctance as his hand had been like a steel vice, he flexed his fingers and then crossed his arms at his chest. "You owe me an explanation." Thorin began, his usually gruff voice quiet and, daresay, patient even though she believed he was chomping at the bit to pelt a barrage of questions at her.  
  
Regarding that his otherwise-polite start did nothing to hide the burning light in his blue eyes, Eäriel shrugged and replied plainly, "regarding what, exactly, the courting of elves? I'm afraid that I don't have enough experience in that area to give a complete and thorough explanation, Master dwarf..."  
  
"Don't toy with me!" growled the dwarf lord, his ears having turned red at what she implied, and he quieted when she broke stares to look away and listen to find they remained undiscovered. Inhaling deeply if only to regain what patience he could spare for the object of his frustrations, he started again albeit with a peeved look on his face, "the day we met, you told me you hailed from the Woodland Realm, not Rivendell. Elrond treats you like his daughter and your... _'cousins_ ' look to you like their sister. The only explanation that makes sense of any of this is that you've lied to me all these years. I need to know what the truth is.”  
  
Having grown quiet again as she listened to his observations, she minded the chirping of crickets in the night outside of their alcove and exhaled if only to ward away the awkward silence between their odd pair.  
  
“I didn't lie to you, I just didn't clarify things..." looking to him as he cocked a brow to silently ask that she enlighten him, she gave another soft exhale and began, “I was a child when my father was killed by orcs and, as he was old friends with Elrond, my mother and I came to live here. But Mum was so consumed with grief that she sailed to the Undying Lands, leaving behind a hurt and lonely elfling. Elrond raised me with his three children and my life was actually happy, for once. I had kin in the Woodland Realm so I sought them out, around a thousand years ago. Stayed with them until six years after Erebor was sacked, and, well…” focusing on him even as he was still processing it all, she watched his gaze lock on hers and smiled faintly, finishing, “you know the rest.”  
  
Looking to her as she had dropped her stare to the toes of her boots, he minded that she had been truthful after all, unearthing bitter memories that he imagined she liked to keep buried in the back of her mind... for a moment he could see a younger version of her watching her mother leave with tear-filled eyes... “why did you leave? Whatever life you could have had with your kin, your family, to help us… to help me?” He asked, voice quiet again albeit he was speaking out of empathy instead of frustration.  
  
_“Ada_ always talked of instilling peace between dwarves and elves, to rebuild the alliances our ancestors once kept... he didn't get to do much about it, so why not me?” Eäriel admitted with another shrug, minding the empathy in his tone and her replenished optimism faltered a degree, her lips pursing a little as she added for her sake, "if I wished to be pitied for the things I've seen then I would've asked for it.”  
  
Dashing the wince at being read as quickly as it had happened, Thorin scowled at her from under his brow before he quipped, "I wasn't about to let you cry on my shoulder, now was I? I believe you are the last person, let alone woman, who would ask for pity."  
  
“Well, I..." quieting at his statement, Eäriel closed her mouth and looked away with a sniff, minding the satisfactory twitch of his mustache. She reached to flick his ear and grouse, "don't look so smug about it, you asshat."  
  
Having visibly winced when she scolded him, the dwarf lord glared at her only for the elleth to crack a smile and look away in attempt to stifle a chuckle. He grunted out of an attempt to be indifferent to her amusement, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he mused, “as I know you don't intend on staying where it's safe, what do you suggest we do about departure?”  
  
Glancing at the dark that was only an hour or two shy of the first coming of dawn, the elleth looked to him with a mischievous twinkle in her eye as she turned to retrace their steps and say over her shoulder, “Gandalf should be stalling Uncle for another hour or two at the very least, so now would be brilliant.”  
  
Smirking wryly at that twinkle that he knew had gotten her in trouble in another time, he strode after her to catch up, daring to wonder while it was still just the two of them, "should I worry that you're behaving like an imp more than an elf?”  
  
Stopping them by her hand that planted its palm on his chest when they were about to enter a wider corridor where she heard a pair of footsteps receding at the end, the she-elf looked at him and hummed, "oh aye, I believe you should.”


	7. wave walker

Flexing her grasp on the sword's chestnut-colored handle and minding that it suited her after all, she swung the sword's blade in an outward arc as a hollow _‘swish_ ’ followed its swift movement. Smiling on the curved sword, she then lowered it and shuffled to locate its scabbard that had leaned on the small boulder feet away.  
  
Sneaking their way out of the settlement had been generally easy, as she had taken point in ensuring their successful escape. It was only two days later, once they had put enough uneven terrain between their ragtag troop and Rivendell, that they relaxed and decided to make camp while they could. The more trying path through the mountains would be their trajectory for the next day and however many days followed after that, and Balin was to take point come morning.  
  
After showing the dwarves the pantry where there was more meat, which was enough for the rest of their journey, she had ducked into one of the armories to take another couple of stocks of arrows (with the second being given to Kili) along with a bag that carried a second cloak and change of tunic, and a pouch of healing herbs. As much as they had Oín and his occupation of being their main healer, she believed it wouldn't hurt for her to bring elvish medicine and keep it on hand just in case.  
  
Pointed ears twitching at hearing a familiar set of feet approach her from the campfire not far from where she had wandered, the elleth looked to him with a raised brow as the bowl of stew he had brought spoke volumes. Eyes softening at his gesture as the bowl was offered to her, she looked up at him from her seat at the boulder and drawled, “if you continue to bestow kindness upon me I just might burst into tears.”  
  
Brow giving a twitch at her teasing, the dwarf lord regarded her bemused stare and puffed, “just eat. We’re to head deeper into the mountains come tomorrow and, contrary to _your_ opinion, sass won’t keep your strength up.” Though truth be told, it wasn't like he was one to believe she lacked strength even for a second, as she had shown him such since day one.  
  
“Suppose you’re making up for being less-than polite these last few days, then,” Eäriel half-wondered as she took the bowl from his hand and shuffled away a bit to give him room at her left, starting to eat as he obliged.  
  
Thorin gave an indifferent grunt, a noise he made when she was too spot-on, looking at the way they had come as he grumbled, “I'd rather not answer that, now eat or your stew will get cold.”  
  
Smirking gently at minding the reddening of his ears as he chose not to look at her, she took another gulp of stew and swallowed before moving the bowl to her left hand to lick the bit of liquid that dribbled on her right hand's thumb. "You might live as long as me if you worry less, _mellonin,”_ she jested as more of a thought before returning to her meal.  
  
He eyed her out of habit, one he had caught himself doing more of late, before mentally whacking himself out of ogling her. “I doubt I could stomach eating another salad,” he remarked, knowing he wasn't the only dwarf who didn't enjoy elf food.  
  
“Can't say I blame you... though I must congratulate you lot on ' _defiling'_ the Sacred Fountain the other morning… the twins and I tried that a month after it was installed, and it would’ve worked if Uncle didn’t catch us,” she admitted before looking at him squarely, her face seeming blasé if he didn’t catch the amused twitch of her upper lip.  
  
Thorin shook his head with likewise amusement at the image, a smile threatening to cross his bearded face, and his ears tingled at her quiet laugh that earned a chuckle from him.  
  
Reclining slightly on the boulder as they then lapsed into a pocket of companionable silence, Eäriel looked heavenward at the velvety blackness littered with stars, her smile returning as she watched them blink down on the world below.  
  
“I had actually sought your company because I wanted to ask you something,” Thorin spoke, the tone in his voice pensive and muddled with curiosity as well as some dejection, watching her resurface from stargazing to arch a brow at him, silently gesturing he continue. Inhaling through his nose as he looked away for a moment, he began in a careful tone, “the last night we were in Rivendell, I overheard Gandalf and Elrond speaking about the quest, the latter being adamant about my becoming just like my grandfather, Thrór… he believes I will meet the same fate.” When she remained silent, he continued in a quieted voice, “as if it could be any more insulting, he then asked Gandalf if this quest would not also put _you_ in danger…”  
  
“What all did he say?” Her voice was a whisper as it passed her lips, and he found her looking at the campfire when he glanced her way.  
  
His stomach slightly lurched before he answered in the same quiet tone, “he believes I will be the cause of whatever should befall _‘his daughter_ ’, that because you are so adamant this quest will be the death of you.” He looked at her again as she remained quiet but the tightness of her gaze spoke volumes, and doubt began to fester at his subconscious again but he kept his gaze on her, daring to ask in a soft tone that he didn't intend, “you don’t agree with him… do you?”  
  
A strangled and weary exhale escaped her, and the elf shut her eyes to lift a hand and rub them. “Just when I was beginning to feel guilty for leaving on bad terms, for sneaking out without saying farewell…!” Her voice slightly wavered, a facet of her that was overall foreign to him, as she opened her eyes and added quietly, "I... I don't know how to apologize to you, for hearing such horrible things...”  
  
Rather surprised and a bit confused that she was apologizing for her former guardian, the dwarf lord started to lift a comforting hand but stopped himself and reasoned, “yet his words weren't yours, Eäriel… I am sure your thoughts were not the same, either. I wish to believe that, at least...”  
  
“Of course not…!” Eäriel affirmed in a quiet growl, looking at him squarely and he minded the angered tears that had started to make her eyes puffy before her gaze flicked elsewhere as she exhaled to regain her composure. A thought came to her then and it caused her lips to quirk with a strangely proud and hopeful smile, and she lifted her gaze to meet his that had scarcely left her, stating, “whatever befalls me will be my own doing, not yours, Thorin Oakenshield... you must understand that before trying to write me off as a damsel.”  
  
Quieting at the determination that she seemed to embody as the seconds passed, Thorin looked away for a moment as he minded her confidence. Mustache twitching in a wry manner, he looked at her from beneath his brow and pointed out in a quieted voice, “I doubt you're in any sort of danger of being reduced to a mere damsel.”  
  
While it had taken nearly a century, too long of time that he imagined anyone who didn't know him would find to be a shock, he found that he could finally put his trust in her endeavors.

  
  


The low and distant rumble of storm clouds made him startle awake.  
  
Looking about as some small part of him hoped he was still in Rivendell, the halfling regarded his dwarvish companions were shuffling to prepare for departure. Wracking his brain for a moment, he recalled how their odd pack had found shelter on a stout cliffside that was less than a mile from the winding path they had taken thus far and, much to his anxiety that began to fester, pivoted to the more treacherous mountain passes that they needed to take.  
  
Rubbing sleep from his eye, Bilbo spared a heavenward glance to find the morning sky he had thought to be clear was actually rather bleak in comparison... he grumped at the foreboding sign, looking to the edge of the cliffside when finding their elleth. He shook his head a bit and watched her speak in a soft voice to the small brown bird on her right pointer finger before the bird flapped its wings and took off back the way they had come.  
  
Feeling his eyes on her, Eäriel looked to the observant halfling and smiled cheerily before turning to get her own belongings together.  
  
The first day into their trek through the mountain pass wasn't as grueling as the halfling believed, but it was rather precarious. He had a distinct feeling the next day would be more of a trial and, as the night rolled into dawn, he was proven correct.  
  
Winds howling louder now that there was little that acted as a shield for her pointed ears, Eäriel wiped her face of rain and blinked back the drops that had tried to blind her.  
  
True that she had plenty experience with traveling but, while most weather conditions didn't bother her, she had to admit this downpour that dug into her back was one of the worst ones yet. Feeling that the gods themselves were in agreement with Elrond and hating that she was most likely right, she shifted her thinking to recall the brief flattery at being deigned to guide them when the rains started.  
  
In all honesty she had grown tired of this deluge and, the longer the notion sat in the fore of her mind and festered there, knocking some sense into the dwarf king's thick skull sounded good.  
  
The yelp of fear towards the back of their troop jerked her from dwelling on their leader, and she whipped her head back to see Bofur pull Bilbo by the other's coat sleeve onto the safer part of the narrow path as he had nearly fallen over the slippery edge.  
  
“Thorin, we must find shelter!” Eäriel advised as she made her voice be heard against the winds, wiping her eyes with a hasty hand before locking stares with the named king at her back.  
  
Reluctantly conceding to reason, Thorin nodded before turning to relay the message to their companions.  
  
_“Look out!_ ” Dwalin bellowed a warning.  
  
Fifteen sets of eyes then looked at the oversized chunk of mountain that had been hurled to collide with the higher shelf of mountain above them and cause a shower of shards to descend on the Company, to which they hugged the mountainside wall for dear life so as to not get hit.  
  
“This is no storm, it’s a thunder battle! Look!” Balin cried as he pointed to the hulking figure of rock that emerged from the very mountainside across them. No sooner was the first giant made known to them but a loud groan coming from behind the odd troop drew their attention to a second rock beast that came to life and proceeded to chuck another boulder at the first giant.  
  
“Bless me! The stories are true... **giants**! Giants made of stone!” Bofur declared in shock.  
  
Neither of the odd pair had been blessed with the gift of foresight, and frankly they didn't need it to know what was coming. _“ **TAKE COVER**!_” Eäriel and Thorin yelled in chorus when the giants began to fight amongst each other.  
  
The second giant sent a fist careening into the first giant’s jaw, causing the other's head to clash with the higher shelves of the mountainside the troop occupied. Feeling as if the collision had made her very bones quake, the elleth gave a slight yelp when a hand pulled her head down by the clasp of her cloak. She calmed when her blue met his as he had shielded both of their heads with an arm before they heard and felt the stone shards raining down.  
  
Eäriel glanced upward when the heavy rain shortly followed the hail of pebbles and she reached up to lower Thorin's arm before meeting his stare that searched hers for any hint of discomfort. She shook her head a bit and offered a quick smile as he nodded in return, her gaze flicking down at realizing she still had custody of his wrist and she cleared her throat to then release him.  
  
Regarding the sheepish and overall-embarrassed flush in her cheeks, Thorin was yanked from his observations when the path beneath them suddenly began to crumble and split, causing both he and the elf to watch the splitting path continue well past the last member of their party. “Hold on!” He shouted to those at the back, watching with shock as a third giant emerged from the mountainside they clung to.  
  
“Grab my hand!” Fili shouted near the tail of the group, causing Eäriel to look at him and her heart clenched when he and Kili were separated by the break in the path, the blonde clinging to the mountain wall as he watched their kinsmen be carried with the giant’s moving legs.  
  
“Fili, Bilbo!” Eäriel barked, reaching to latch onto Thorin by his vest's fur lining when he made to rush to his nephews' aid and holding fast as the winds threatened to yank her hood off while they watched the third giant be felled and its legs slowly crash into the opposing mountainside… “ _No!”_ Both dwarf and elf cried in chorus as the torso of the giant fell into the abyss-like chasm below, the latter at last releasing the former before their part of the troop scrambled to where they had seen the giant’s leg collapse against the mountain.  
  
“Fili!” Thorin called, fearing the worst in having possibly lost his nephew and heir, being the first to round the corner. His heart soared in relief at finding his nephew as well as the remaining members of their party who were regaining their bearings.  
  
“Boys!” Eäriel laughed at finding her friends alive, watching Kili rush to his brother’s side to embrace him while she helped some of the others to their feet, before she threw her arms around the princes in relief.  
  
“Where’s Bilbo?” Bofur asked at large, pulling the company from their overall euphoria, and he asked again when noone answered, “where’s the hobbit?”  
  
Drawing away from the princes, Eäriel was first to look for said halfling only to locate him desperately clinging onto the path's slippery ledge. “Found 'im!” She barked, wasting no time in getting down on her belly to reach down and then voice a slight grunt of victory when catching the sleeve of his coat. “Grab my arm!” She ordered when locking stares with Bilbo who nodded quickly and obeyed, starting to pull the both of them up, breaking stares for a split second to glance up when two sets of hands seized her sword's belt and quiver to help her, smiling in relief.  
  
“We nearly lost our burglar **and** our elf along with ‘im!” Dwalin huffed as he earned a thankful nod from the lone woman and returned it.  
  
Thorin’s face was stony as he huffed and remarked pointedly, “he’s been **lost** ever since he left home... should never have come! He’s got no place, here.” If he and Dwalin _hadn't_ been fast enough they actually would've lost Eäriel… he shot a glare at the still-shivering halfling before turning away to continue.  
  
“He’s got as much right to be with the company as I,” retorted Eäriel in a quieted voice, and she watched him stiffen before his tightened gaze flicked over to her. Regarding that, ironically, the storm had died down to a light drizzle as their companions had grown quiet, she added if only for sanity's sake, “give it a rest for today.”  
  
Scowl faltering a smidge at the returned determination and daresay plea in her gaze that met his, the dwarf king turned away with a scoff and nodded at the opening in the rock not feet away as he beckoned, “Dwalin.”  
  
Bilbo shook his head even as the dwarf king's words glued themselves to his memory and he looked to the she-elf who wiped her nose of dirt, pointing out in a quieted voice, “you needn’t have defended me like that, Eäriel…” By all rights Thorin had a point, much to her chagrin.  
  
“I don't enjoy lying, especially when I know what is true,” Eäriel defended in the same tone, looking at her companion and offering a smile as she added, “Gandalf was right when he said you’re vital to this quest, Bilbo.”  
  
“Looks safe enough!” Dwalin called from inside the large niche, to which Thorin motioned everyone enter and barely spared a second look to Bilbo who had lingered at their elf's side.  
  
Regarding that the niche was like a small and narrow cave, Eäriel felt a bristle rise up her arms at the convenience but she brushed it off, muttering, “mountain caves are rarely unoccupied.” Finding a spot by the entrance and shrugging her quiver and bag off, she plopped down on the cold floor with a weary sigh.  
  
Glóin dropped a bundle of dry firewood— some, she noticed, looked like they were broken off from various pieces of furniture in the settlement— and rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “Let's get a fire started, shall we?” suggested the redhead, and noone present could protest to a warm fire... except for one.  
  
“No fires, not tonight,” Thorin instructed with a shake of his head, doing a once-over of their cave as he checked on his companions, adding, “get some rest so we can start again at first light.”  
  
Balin looked to him and reminded, “the plan was for us to wait in the mountains until Gandalf came.”  
  
“Plans change,” remarked Thorin, earning a mild look from Balin and incidentally Eäriel, and he added to the hat-wearing dwarf, “you’ve got first watch.”  
  
Having reached into the confines of her bag, Eäriel beamed at withdrawing a thin pink comb and set to undoing the thin braids keeping hair from her face before she combed out the knots and tangles. Once her mane of hair was drying, she minded that her otherwise-male companions had drifted to sleep near instantly if only to get in a few winks... smiling albeit ruefully at the idea, she reclined and folded her arms at her chest, closing her eyes to follow suit.  
  
It wasn't long, four or so hours at the least, that she recognized sleep would not come. It was also by happenstance that their burglar was trying to leave but had been stopped by Bofur.  
  
Listening to the hobbit and dwarf quietly argue in the dark, she cracked open an eye to steal a look over at their leader towards the back of the cave and found that he was listening as well.  
  
“… you’re right. We don’t belong anywhere, do we?” Bofur admitted lamely with a brief glance at his companions, lastly looking to their elf sleeping nearby. True that they didn’t belong anywhere, her especially, after all she gave up for them… looking to the quieted hobbit, he smiled good-naturedly and patted the other's shoulder as he said, “I wish you all the luck in the world.”  
  
Her unease about their shelter suddenly came barreling right at her as she roused and looked to the odd pair when noticing the blue glow from the hobbit's sword... “ _Thorin!”_ Her voice was sharp as she snapped his name, watching the named dwarf startle awake before the distant scraping of claws on stone drew her attention to the odd crack that then emerged to divide the niche in half.  
  
“ **Wake up**!” Thorin commanded, being first to jump to his feet, causing the others to also startle awake. Before anyone could fathom what was happening, the floor split open and the cave's inhabitants dropped into a dark chute.  
  
Having snatched the straps for her bag, quiver, and sword in time, the elleth and her companions gave a collective yell of fear while they tumbled. Down the company fell, tumbling and sliding down into the dark until they landed in a collective heap inside of a large wooden ball what felt like seconds later, causing plenty groans of pain and several expletives to be voiced.  
  
The lone elf managed to scramble out of having Dwalin drop ontop of her, momentarily regarding the dank state of their new surroundings and grumbling an expletive. Slinging her bag and quiver's straps onto her shoulder before managing to stand, smirking ruefully at hearing the scraping noise coming fast, she drew the teal-glowing sword from its scabbard and looked at the jumbled party as she ordered, “get up, all of you!”  
  
“What is it, now?” Thorin demanded from the other side of the ball, having also shot to his feet with a guarded scowl on his brow.  
  
“Goblins!” Said Eäriel with her rueful smirk lingering on her lips.

  
  


A cacophony of shrieks and squeals resounded on the air as the wretched little beasts descended on the company within seconds.  
  
Lashing out with ease as Hathelas decapitated four of the goblins, the elleth then punted off another that threw itself at her, gutting another one only seconds before a snarled curse escaped her when three large goblins assailed her and knocked the sword from her grip. Eäriel kicked and punched, rebelling as much as the others were, before the gruesome trio forced her onto the rickety bridge along with her friends. Having briefly taken heart at not being the only captive, she found she despised goblins nearly as much as orcs.  
  
The company risked respective glances at their new surrounding when coming upon a labyrinth of rickety bridges, lastly looking at what lay ahead of them, which was a dais that was just as crudely built. Knowing without need of experience that the goblins would treat her worse than they would the dwarves due to her gender, the lone elf ducked down as much as she could and silently vowed vengeance upon the disgusting bastards that had captured their odd pack.  
  
At last the odd troop was brought to a halt shy of the goblin king's throne. The massive and grotesque beast had situated his fat arse on the wooden throne, and his _'guests_ ' didn't know which facet of his was more affronting to their stomachs, his face or the multiple puss-filled blisters and boils beneath the layers of grime coating his pale self.  
  
Eäriel reluctantly quelled the urge to protest when her belongings were taken and chucked into the same pile that consisted of the dwarves’ as well. For a moment she regarded the sheathed Hathelas that lay on the bottom of the pile, and her fingers ached to feel the sword in her grasp again.  
  
The overgrown goblin nearly dropped from his throne chair as he descended to stand before the party with a sneer on his ugly face, demanding at large, “who would dare to enter my kingdom with weapons? Spies... thieves... assassins!?”  
  
While she had never once considered herself any of the above, the she-elf deemed that if she had to become one of the mentioned only so that the boys could escape this with their lives, then so be it!  
  
“Dwarves, your malevolence!” promptly answered a scrawny goblin near the front of the troop.  
  
_“’Dwarves’?_ ” echoed the Great Goblin, granted his parroting sounded more like a baffled squawk to her aching ears.  
  
Before Eäriel knew what was happening, she was suddenly seized from behind again and forced to stand before the beast, the goblin that had all-but thrown her forward nearly making her fall on her knees. With a snarl she twisted out of the creature's grip only to kick it square off the dais, her eyes flashing as the rest of the nearby goblins sneered at her and shifted a bit in attempt to retaliate.  
  
“And one _she-elf!_ ” The scrawny announcer added from the side, shooting a devious look at the incensed elf.  
  
“Oh-ho, a feisty one at that!” Cackled the goblin king as he stooped a bit to lock eyes with the elf, the sneer on his face changing to a wicked smile at the murder in her brilliant eyes, before he drawled, “do tell, my dear, just why you and your dwarvish friends sought to kill me so crudely, hmm?” When the she-elf refused to answer and only continued to glower up at him, a guttural snarl came from the beast as he commanded, “ **speak**!”  
  
Left hand having curled into a fist, she struck him solidly in the nose and retracted her fist just as quick, before the accosted goblin jabbed the blunt head of his scepter into her belly and sent her bouncing back to land near the edge of the dais.  
  
Jeering laughs and cackles had erupted in the grubby kingdom's high walls, and Eäriel grimaced between trying to regain the air back in her lungs, voicing a hoarse growl when being hauled up by two more goblins. Blue eyes rounding on their host again, she gave one last cough and retained her silence even as a certain dwarf's stare kept her in his view as the seconds passed.  
  
“Very well, if none of you will **talk** we'll just have to make you **squawk**! Bring up the Mangler, the Bone-Breaker! Start with the youngest and **that** uncouth she-elf as well!” Deemed the Great Goblin with a laugh as he gestured from little Ori who paled considerably at going first to the lone woman who sneered back.  
  
“ _ **Wait**!”_ A familiar voice exclaimed, his outburst bouncing off the walls of the cavern.  
  
Looking at him in alarm, the elleth watched the dwarf king make his way to the front, locking stares with him and silently pleading with him to stand down. She was an elf, as he knew, and she was made to endure a little pain every now and then... even if this was as life-costing as they knew it would be.  
  
Holding her imploring stare, at first surprised that she wished to protect him in some fashion, he gave a slight shake of the head in assurance. Never in his life did he believe he would stick his neck out for an elf, let alone an elf who was his ally, but he didn't wish to watch either her or the boys die.  
  
“Well, lads, look who showed up! Thorin, son of Thráin, son of Thrór... king Under the Mountain!” The rotund goblin drawled with a mocking bow to the exiled king, continuing as his subjects cackled at the mockery, “but I forgot that you are in fact _without_ a mountain, or a crown… thus making you _nobody_ , really. I heard wind of one who would pay a pretty penny for your head… _just_ a head!”  
  
Eäriel’s face paled a degree at his taunt before a bristle prickled at her nape as she recalled that certain beast had only lost an arm that day, nothing that could have waylaid him for long… _oh Valar, no_.  
  
“Perhaps you know who I speak of… an old enemy of yours? A certain pale orc...!” drawled the Great Goblin who had a smug smile that showed misshapen teeth.  
  
“Azog the Defiler is **dead** … cut down in battle years ago!” Thorin rumbled with venom as he glowered up at the beast.  
  
Giving a cold bark of laughter, their host wondered, “you think his defiling days are done, then?” Turning to a small goblin seated on a swing that served as a message system, he added, “send word to the pale orc and tell him I’ve found his prize!”  
  
With a shriek of a laugh, the little beast took off down the long rope into the darker depths of the cave. The lone elf would give what gold she had for her bow… stiffening a degree, she recalled that the goblins hadn't searched her completely.  
  
The throwing knives and daggers were still in their respective places… face adopting a blasé mask, she flinched slightly when the goblins started singing another song like the horrid number that had welcomed their odd troop.  
  
Her nose wrinkled when the goblin king jumped in and pranced about as much as his overgrown size would allow… the longer the seconds passed, the impulse to slit that beast's throat with her daggers to shut him up grew much more enticing.  
  
The goblins’ overall merriment came to a skidding halt minutes later, however, when a curious goblin poked about their pile of weapons and gave a shrill shriek of fear as it had drawn Orcrist out from the pile. Dropping the sword onto the dais' floor, the little ilk's actions caused the rest of the goblins to become fearful. Much to the surprise of their ' _guests_ ', the Great Goblin was no exception as the named beast scrambled onto his throne with fear that the infamous relic would attack him of its own accord.  
  
“T-that sword, I know it! It is the Goblin Cleaver, the Biter! The blade that slashed a thousand necks,” cried the goblin king as he pointed a fat finger at the sword, his fear and outrage causing the smaller goblins to attack the dwarves and elf in a furious frenzy as he bellowed, “ **slash 'em, beat 'em... kill them all**!”  
  
Voicing a snarl as she twisted and kicked off the goblins who swarmed upon her with more gusto, Eäriel took a half-second to draw her daggers from their place to start slicing them to ribbons. A tall goblin lunged at her from behind, and she turned in time to punt it off the dais with a kick before pausing as she realized the struggle had driven her closer to the pile of their belongings.  
  
The silver of Hathelas' blade winked in the amber glow of the cave's light as the sword itself seemed to beckon she draw it and fight properly…  
  
“ **Cut off his head**!” The Great Goblin yelled, yanking her attention to the chaos and namely to the trio of tall goblins that pinned Thorin to the floor with the third goblin that made to behead him.  
  
The lone elf launched herself at the goblin trio, yanking one off him and chucking it a ways, stabbing the second goblin between the eyes and dropping it as the dwarf king kicked away the third. Blue met blue and she shared a smile with him before looking away at feeling a sudden and familiar charge on the air of the cave… _finally!_  
  
At the relief that brightened her eyes, Thorin considered asking what she heard as he began to straighten before she threw herself ontop of him as a shield when a white light enveloped the cave and threatened to blind him with its coming had he not shut his eyes and clung to the elf while the goblins that tried to get at them were blown off the dais by its force.  
  
Eäriel lifted her head as stunned silence following the light began to die, looking on Thorin as his fingers still clung to her ribs and smiling when his eyes cracked open. Ignoring the indecency of their entwined selves, she lifted herself off him and offered a hand when straightening, being first to look at their gray-clad savior with a wry grin.  
  
“Take up arms, all of you. Fight… **fight**!” Gandalf ordered the company as the remaining dwarves were getting to their feet, much like the goblins.  
  
Being first to shake off the silence, she wasted no time in diving for the nearby pile to locate her weapons and bag along with Hathelas and Orcrist, tossing the shorter relic to its master who caught it with ease. She regarded the goblins who rushed their odd party and glanced up at the wizard between drawing the teal-glowing sword, her grin returning as she greeted, “punctually late as always.”  
  
Together the elf, wizard, and dwarves hacked and sliced at the angered goblins long enough to start clearing an escape path, the dwarves being a fierce force in themselves while the lone elf amongst them moved with a potent combination of fluidity and viciousness.  
  
“He wields the Foe-Hammer, the Beater!” The Great Goblin cried as he pointed to the wizard before advancing on the dwarf king, swinging his bone scepter down on the other only to be blocked and shoved with force so he fell over the dais' edge.  
  
“Lads, this way!” Called Eäriel as Gandalf had nodded to a bridge that led from the dais to the rest of the kingdom, letting the dwarves scramble first across the bridge as she shortly followed between switching from her sword to her bow with an arrow nocked while the wizard brushed past her to take point.  
  
The company raced through the various bridges and platforms of Goblintown, keeping together along the twisting and turning bridges that led them further away from the goblins giving chase, their pursuers' incensed state spurring even the slower members of the pack to keep up.  
  
Letting her third arrow find its mark in another goblin's fat skull, Eäriel minded her stock as the little monster fell into the abyss-like chasm beneath the bridge they just crossed. A bulkier goblin launched itself at the dwarf that she had ushered ahead, which was Bombur, only for her bow to crash into the beast's face hard enough to send it flying and in turn give her a chance to catch up. Hopping onto the swinging bridge as she had caught the tail only for a small swarm of goblins to besiege them thanks to a cluster of ropes, she shouldered her bow to aid the dwarves by way of her knives that cut down the goblins.  
  
“Cut the rope!” Thorin shouted, to which those closest sliced at the ropes with what blades they had. The bridge then began to rock without warning, causing the rag-tag party to steady their footing despite the majority of them struggling for a second.  
  
Racing across to the questionably-safer side as their bridge fell, the company kept their pace even as the goblins at their backs scaled the rock walls to close the gap. The elleth considered lingering to cut down the crawling goblins with her arrows but reconsidered it as the ache for fresh air and daylight won the brief struggle.  
  
At one point they came to a dead-end and would have been trapped had Kili not severed the rope holding their platform and caused it to swing like a pendulum, letting at least half of the party jump onto the safer ground as the second half awaited their chance and slew the goblins that boarded their pendulum-esque platform.  
  
Fili nearly fell with the platform, having been last to cut the ropes while the others crossed over, before Eäriel snatched him by the scruff of his coat to yank him along with her to safety.  
  
“Come on!” Eäriel urged with a quick smile before ushering him to where his brother was, slicing at the goblins that pursued them from any and all sides.  
  
Having somehow migrated to the middle of the troop as they crossed over another platform, she turned to deal a blow to a large goblin that lunged at her from the right only for a familiar cleaver-sword to sever the beast’s head clean from its shoulders. Pausing to lock stares with her savior, she shook out of the surprise and chided, “I had it sorted!” A smirk crossed her lips as his mustache gave an amused twitch in return, before her smirk fell when she struck the goblin that had tried to jump him from his right.  
  
Once again witness to her deadly expertise, Thorin cracked a smirk before he shepherded her after their companions.  
  
Eäriel glanced back at him as they fought back-to-back at another intersection of bridges, minding the contrasting fluidity and ferocity of Thorin's swings as, what felt like a moment that lasted for a thousand years, her blood seemed to thrum in tune with his.  
  
She knew what others thought of him, too well for her own liking sometimes, but she didn't care. Thorin Oakenshield made for a great king who would restore his people's pride, and she believed that more than she had ever believed anything else in her entire life.  
  
After Gandalf broke a low-hanging boulder that crushed the goblins in their way, the company crossed another long bridge that led to their escape only for the boards to shatter from below as the Great Goblin emerged, having crawled up from the darkness to cut off their escape with a devious grin on his marred face.  
  
Having managed to find herself close to the head of their party, again, the she-elf lifted an arm to shield her eyes from the spray of splinters before lowering it to glower up at the goblin she had the misfortune of facing, again.  
  
“What, pray, are you gonna do now you insolent wench?” sneered the rotund king, smashing his scepter down on the boards to make her draw back closer to the wizard, giving a guttural growl as he swung the scepter to try and catch her head.  
  
Hathelas’ blade glowed brilliantly as, with a growl of her own, the elleth rammed it between the beast's bulging eyes. “ **That**!” Eäriel stated frostily, withdrawing her blade as the goblin dropped before her.  
  
Victory was short-lived, however, as the bridge then gave a low groan and creak... the elleth groaned an expletive seconds before the boards gave way beneath them.  
  
The company gave yells as they clung to what pieces of bridge remained as it ricocheted down into the darkness and, as everyone was elated for the fearful ride to meet its end, they landed at the bottom of the chasm in a jumbled heap of boards, thirteen dwarves, one elf, and one wizard.  
  
“Well that could’ve been worse!” Bofur said just before the corpse of the Great Goblin landed on the rubble pile and added another thousand pounds at the very least to their weight.  
  
“Damn it!” Eäriel growled in pain at nearly being crushed, grimacing as she managed to shimmy out from beneath at least three of the boys, doubling to firstly help Gandalf out of the rubble before helping whichever dwarves she could grab as Dwalin was already helping Thorin and his nephews.  
  
“Gandalf!” Kili yelped, causing those who had gotten free to look to the rocky walls above and find, with horror, the descending flood of goblins chasing them with shrill cries and shrieks of fury echoing off the walls.  
  
“There’s too many of them!” exclaimed Dwalin as he pulled Dori free of the rubble.  
  
“Daylight!” Eäriel barked as she hopped onto the boards to pull Kili out by his scruff, lightly dusting him off, before looking to Thorin.  
  
At deeming she was right, Gandalf led the way down one path at top speed with the odd party at his heels.

  
  


Elves had always been partial to light rather than darkness, as far back as anyone could honestly recall, and she was no exception.  
  
“Seven, eight… Bifur and Bofur, ten… Fili, Kili! Twelve, Bombur… and Eäriel! Fourteen,” Gandalf counted off those present with a relieved exhale.  
  
Having skidded to a halt just shy of a few trees, Eäriel gave a breathy laugh and silently thanked the gods for sparing them once again. The beginnings of a grin faltered as she took a second headcount to find they were one shy of sixteen… “Bilbo, where is he?” She asked at large, causing the dwarves and wizard to look about and find their burglar was indeed missing as they had completely ignored the fact of his absence when dealing with the goblins.  
  
“Where is our hobbit!?” Gandalf demanded, looking to the dwarves with hardened eyes.  
  
“Curse the halfling for being lost!” Dwalin declared in irritation, he himself having wondered how long it would take before the hobbit would turn and bolt home once he saw how the Wild greeted their party, accusing, “I thought he was with Dori!”  
  
The named dwarf protested, “don’t blame me!”  
  
“When was the last time you saw him?” Gandalf asked as he turned on the same dwarf.  
  
Nori piped up in attempt to aid his brother, “thought I saw him slip away when they cornered us…”  
  
“I’ll tell you what happened,” Thorin then said, earning fourteen sets of eyes as he continued, “Master Baggins clearly saw his chance and bolted, as he’s thought of nothing but a soft bed and warm hearth since he first stepped out the door! We won't be seeing our hobbit again… he is long gone!” He sent a pointed look at the wizard as involving a burglar had been the other's foolhardy idea.  
  
“That's enough!” snapped the normally-calm Eäriel as she then stepped up to the king and firmly add, “you've been picking at and belittling that poor hobbit since you first laid eyes on him, but I'll be damned if I'm to hear you curse him when he's not here to defend himself. Bilbo Baggins may not be a dwarf or elf, but he's valuable in his own way… whether you believe it or not, Thorin Oakenshield.”  
  
And she meant it all, as Bilbo was one who didn't belong much of anywhere else but among friends... _much like her_.  
  
Locking stares with the stubborn elf before him, Thorin opened his mouth to argue only to perk up when a familiar voice then declared, “he’s not gone, actually!”  
  
Surprise fell on the odd party as their burglar appeared from behind a tree near Balin, looking just as tired and shabby with a slightly timid smile on his face.  
  
“Bilbo!” Eäriel beamed at seeing him returned.  
  
“I've never been so glad to see anyone, dear Bilbo,” Gandalf put in with a laugh of relief.  
  
Kili shared in the elf’s euphoria as he commented, “we’d nearly given you up.”  
  
“How’d you get past the goblins?” asked Fili, also smiling.  
  
_“How_ indeed…?” Dwalin wondered quietly.  
  
Pausing for a moment as he thought of how best to explain his miraculous escape from the tunnels, Bilbo afforded a nervous laugh as he then stuck something small into his coat pocket.  
  
This wasn't gone amiss by either wizard or elf, as the former had spotted the wink of gold on said something, before the latter smiled serenely and said if only to retain their optimism, “doesn’t matter, does it... he’s back! That’s all that matters.” She earned a brief thankful smile from the found hobbit.  
  
“It matters!” Rebutted Thorin, receiving an exasperated half-glare from the elf, before he turned his full attention on Bilbo and demanded carefully, “… why **did** you came back?”  
  
Aware of the returned tension between the odd couple, Bilbo paused again to then answer with care, “I know you doubt me, that you always have.” Funny enough he found that the she-elf never doubted him, and his brown gaze flicked to her before he minded that the king's focus remained on him. He continued, “you're actually right, though... I often think of Bag End. I miss my books, my armchair, my garden… that's home for me. And you don’t have one… a home, that is. It was taken… but if I can, I'll help you take it back.”  
  
A pocket of pensive silence followed the little burglar's speech, and the dwarf king dipped his head in understanding before he flicked his gaze to the she-elf as her scolding resurfaced. While her honesty stung, he minded that she spoke out to make him see the error of his ways... unsure if it was guilt or courtesy, he felt future reparations were necessary.  
  
Said she-elf gently patted the hobbit on the back with a hand before she looked from him to their leader when feeling his eyes linger on her, considering saying something when her ears suddenly heard the noise of paws rushing towards them from the steep mountainside at their backs. Sharply looking back as her face paled a bit, she announced, “boys, we’ve got company!”  
  
As their ears had not been as sharp as hers, the dwarves, hobbit and wizard looked to the elleth before freezing when a baying howl cut into the growing dusk as it came from the rocky pass at their backs.  
  
“Out of the frying pan…” Thorin muttered darkly as, like her, his face paled a degree.  
  
Gandalf finished bitterly, “and into the fire… run!” His words spurred their rag-tag party to run further down the mountainside at top speed as none among them wished to greet the orc pack.  
  
Shepherding Bilbo ahead as she took the tail again, Eäriel heard the wolf beasts barreling through the trees as day bowed to night, her bow finding itself in her ready hands with an arrow nocked and a slight growl caught between her teeth.  
  
The odd party kept their pace moments before an eager warg leapt off a rock to land feet in front of the hobbit and cut him off from his companions.  
  
“Bilbo!” Eäriel shouted as she doubled back to help him, swerving out of the way when another warg launched itself at her right only to catch an arrow in its skull. Nocking another arrow, she made to fire at the first warg only to find with shock that it was already dead by the small glowing blade of Bilbo's sword lodged in the space between its eyes.  
  
Bilbo Baggins had just slain a warg.  
  
Grinning from ear to ear at his feat, she hurried to help him yank the blade free of its temporary sheath, ruffling his hair and chuckling, “a butter knife couldn’t do that, could it?” She received a smile from the hobbit before they both zipped after the dwarves and wizard.  
  
“Into the trees, all of you!” Gandalf ordered when they reached a steep cliffside, ensuring the dwarves climbed into the nearby pines as he took to the last one on the edge, looking back for their misfits to find Eäriel was first to hop into a tree containing the princes before she hoisted Bilbo up with her into its branches.  
  
It was a good thing they took to the trees as the hunting party now were gathered around, the wargs snapping and snarling as they jumped the trees to try and snatch those who were on the lower branches.  
  
As she had a good view, Eäriel let an arrow strike one warg that jumped too high, nocking another arrow as the warg fell on the tree's roots below. Looking up when catching a hint of white on the incline that descended to their cliffside, she bristled in a mixture of shock and confirmed fears.  
  
“Azog!” Thorin gaped, his blood having run cold at seeing the pale orc alive and present after so long, before rage began to boil in his veins and cause his surprised face to sober into a cold glare.  
  
The pale orc drawled something in Black Speech before he uttered one name in common tongue, “Thorin son of Thráin.”  
  
Regading that the Gundabad behemoth had eyes only for the named king, Eäriel steeled herself to tuck her bow to her quiver before she looked to the tree Thorin occupied as fear for his life melded into an iron-clad impulse to protect him from the beast that craved vengeance.  
  
Azog raised his mace to point at the dwarf king and told his underlings to dispose of the others but leave his prey for him alone. At his command, the wargs surged upon the rag-tag party once again but with a more potent voraciousness in their snapping jaws as they began trying to fell the trees.  
  
In no time, the trees began to collapse ontop of their kindred, causing those in the branches to scramble to the next still-standing tree until all sixteen of the company were relocated in the lone pine at the edge of the steep cliffside.  
  
The she-elf perked up when a flaming projectile was suddenly chucked below to clock a warg on the head, sending the beast yelping away while the dropped pinecone lit the dry earth to keep the mongrels at bay even if for a moment.  
  
“Fili!” Gandalf called as he tossed a pinecone down to the older prince, who in turn helped Bilbo light his own and also lit the arrowhead of Eäriel’s next arrow she had wrapped a strip of handkerchief around.  
  
Aiming at the largest warg below and letting the flaming arrow fly, Eäriel watched with satisfaction as the beast cried out in pain and fell to aid the growing flames with the ones that licked at its corpse. She grinned and looked past the flames as the wargs’ numbers had dwindled so only a handful of orcs and Azog remained repelled by the orange and red flames acting as a wall for the ragtag company.  
  
The company gave a collective cheer at their feat only to have the small victory stolen from their very fingers as the tree quivered beneath their gathered weight before it started to tip over the edge. With a yell they clutched tightly to the branches of the large pine, hoping that the tree would hold out just a bit longer and that they wouldn't go tumbling down into the darkened green below.  
  
Eäriel gave a slight yelp when Bilbo almost fell, her left hand lashing out to grab hold of his coat scruff and hoist him with her onto the trunk.  
  
Bilbo gave a quick thankful nod at her save before he was first to see the familiar dark-haired king climb to his feet on the trunk only feet away, watching in complete surprise as their leader descended the tree with Orcrist in hand and his reputed oak branch covering the other to then run headlong at the orcs.  
  
“Uncle!” Fili called when spotting their leader past the flames.  
  
“Thorin, don’t!” Eäriel cried as she watched when Azog gave a snarl before launching himself at the named dwarf king, his warg's large paws knocking the other down with ease.  
  
“No!” Balin cried from his place on the tree as the dwarf king was knocked down a second time by a sharp blow to his chest from Azog’s mace, causing the felled dwarf to gasp in pain.  
  
Eäriel flinched at hearing the crunch of bones at the beast’s clamping teeth that latched onto the dwarf's left side and earned a yell of pain from him, her eyes brightening in anger at both Azog and their compromised selves, growling softly, “Thorin…!”  
  
“Thorin!” Dwalin yelled as he attempted to go to his leader’s aid when the branch he clung to broke, leaving him to do nothing but hang on.  
  
Not entirely believing he was doing what he was doing, Bilbo chose that moment to stand on the trunk of the tree and draw the sword from its scabbard, giving a gulp as he looked between the sword and their battered leader…  
  
Thorin had heard a shuffling of hard boots coming up to him as he blearily saw another orc prepare to take his head, grappling for Orcrist that had fallen from his grasp only inches away, before a small head of brown hair tackled the opposing orc and diverted its attention from him completely. He lifted his head to watch in shock as Bilbo slew the bald orc by stabbing into its chest.  
  
Bilbo stumbled as he dove to defend the injured Thorin, fear and the rush of adrenaline coursing through his small self as he stared down the intimidating beasts, swinging his sword in threat.  
  
Azog started to order his orcs to slay the halfling when a streak of teal and brown collided with another orc at his right, slaying the other with ease before doubling to throw itself between them and Bilbo.  
  
At first Bilbo didn’t know if he was imagining it, or if she really was that fast, but there was Eäriel acting as his shield with the fire's amber glow making her hair burn auburn and wink off the teal-glowing sword in her hands.  
  
Thorin blearily looked on the steadfast elleth before unconsciousness swept him up in a blackened veil.  
  
Before Azog or his remaining comrades could advance on the odd trio, a battle cry sounded just as Fili and Kili dove in with vigor to help their companions. Shortly after them did the remaining dwarves follow, and soon the hillside was loud with cries of pain from the remaining wargs and orcs.  
  
Hathelas sang as its wielder cut down a warg that tried to grab Bilbo from behind, and Eäriel ducked Azog's mace that swung out at her head from the left. She glowered up at the orc’s ugly face before skirting away as his white steed snapped at her ribs, and she gave a loud growl before stabbing the wolf beast between her eyes.  
  
Beady eyes flashing in rage as he dismounted the felled warg, Azog brandished his mace and gave a roar before lashing out at Eäriel, being blocked again and again, before a shrill cry cut into the electrified air and made both combatants look up to a massive brown eagle that knocked the orc back with a flap of its wings and shielded the elf.  
  
The elleth beamed at the creature's punctuality, looking away when another eagle called as it dove to gather the unconscious Thorin from the ground. Sheathing her sword, she quickly sprinted to the departing raptor, snatching both the nearby Orcrist and Bilbo in her leave as they landed on the beast's back and clung to its feathers when it flew from the cliffside with another cry. She looked at the otherwise-weary hobbit and patted his shoulder, smiling wryly when he flinched and looked up to her in confirmation as if the outlandish scenario was just a dream.  
  
At the wry look from his companion that confirmed he was, in fact, awake and alive, Bilbo's shoulders slumped and he gave a relieved sigh. He then looked past their eagle at the others in the flock to find their companions astride, smiling to himself at their odd count being complete again.  
  
“We cannot thank you enough for your aid, my friend.” Eäriel spoke quietly to their savior, stroking the top layer of feathers with a gentle hand.  
  
The eagle gave a chirp as his voice stole into her mind and said in a jovial tone, _‘think nothing of it, but do not fear for your king! He will live again, Wolf Child._ ’  
  
Quieting at the changed pronoun, she looked away to the eagle that carried their leader and smiled thoughtfully at having her hopes confirmed.

  
  


Sunlight shone brilliantly against the horizon, carrying the eagle-riding party on until at last they reached Carrock, a tall and cragged hillside that jutted up to face the skies with a likeness the woodsmen living in the Rhovanion believed resembled a bear’s upturned muzzle. The eagles circled the stone outcropping before slowly and gently depositing their riders, letting the dwarves down first before the dwarf king and two misfits were lowered safely to the smoothed stone.  
  
“Thorin!” Gandalf declared as he pushed past the dwarves in his way after being last to land, coming to a halt next to Bilbo while Eäriel had gotten down on all-fours to inspect the unconscious state of their leader.  
  
Eäriel fought a shiver when touching his face to feel an unnatural chill to his normally-warm skin, and she straightened a bit from kneeling to then close her eyes and place a hand on his forehead, the tips of her fingers grazing his skin.  
  
Bilbo stood with the wizard and listened to the elvish spell Eäriel murmured as her left hand roved from Thorin’s forehead to just shy of his heart, watching with shock as the named dwarf gave a twitch in attempt to move.  
  
Ears ringing with her calm voice that had stolen into the fore of his mind, Thorin distinctly heard her pleas for him to awaken because his kinsmen needed him, because she herself needed him… his eyes cracked open to meet her familiar gaze clouded with worry, before he fully opened his eyes to find worry changed for relief, her half-strangled laugh filling his ears. Her eyes brightened with fondness that stirred something in him, and it was then that what had happened on the cliffside suddenly barreled to the fore… “the halfling?” He quietly asked.  
  
It was then that Eäriel broke stares with him to look to the lone hobbit who lingered near the wizard, giving a nod, and watching their companions sigh in relief at the same time. She perked up as he then tried to stand and voice a groan of pain in the process, grasping his good arm on reflex and ordering, “don’t move so much!” She calmed when both Dwalin and Fili stepped up to help him, nodding to them in thanks.  
  
“You… what were you thinking?” Thorin demanded sharply of the hobbit as he adjusted his rumpled clothes, continuing as he strode up to the other, “nearly got yourself killed! Didn't I say you would be a burden, that you wouldn’t survive the Wild? …that there was no place for you amongst us.” He took another pained step towards the hobbit even as her defense echoed in his head once more, and the silence that sat itself between them may as well have lasted for hours before he broke it, “I’ve never been so _wrong.”_ With that, he then embraced the hobbit in thanks.  
  
The company let out a loud cheer at the promising end of a long and haggard day. Gandalf smiled on in elation at the hobbit’s proper welcome to the company. Eäriel beamed at the sight and allowed a relieved sigh.  
  
“I’m sorry I doubted you,” Thorin apologized quietly as he and Bilbo broke apart.  
  
Bilbo shook his head and replied, “I would’ve doubted me too, honestly. I’m not a hero, or a warrior… barely even a burglar.” He earned a few chuckles from the dwarves.  
  
Eäriel watched the eagles as they began to depart, looking on the eagle that had carried her and she dipped her head in thanks when their gazes met before he joined his flock in taking off into the strengthening day. “Thank you,” she murmured.  
  
Thorin looked to the elleth as the rising sun seemed to make her hair sport flecks of auburn, locking stares for a moment to distinctly see her ears redden, before he looked away with a small smile until the sight of a certain mountain in the distance caught his eye.  
  
“Is that…?” Bilbo asked quietly, having managed to find his voice once again as he also looked at the peak, looking at Thorin who stepped up towards the edge of their cliff.  
  
“Erebor… the last of the great dwarf kingdoms of Middle-Earth.” Eäriel supplied thoughtfully with a likewise smile on her lips as the surge of hope that washed over her companions was near-palpable.  
  
Smile returning as it felt like longer than a century since he had seen the solitary peak, Thorin added with pride, “our home.”  
  
A chirp sounded overhead, causing everyone to watch a small bird dart past them into the easternmost horizon.  
  
“A raven! The birds must be returning to the Mountain after all,” claimed Oín.  
  
Gandalf corrected calmly, “that, Master Oín, is a thrush.”  
  
Thorin remarked, “we’ll take it as a sign anyway, a good omen!”  
  
“I do believe the worst is behind us.” Bilbo agreed with a slight sigh as he looked at the mountain in the distance.  
  
Eäriel’s smile faltered a degree as she glanced at the green of the Rhovanion standing between their party and their destination with Elrond’s words ringing in her ears... she found that she couldn't share in the hobbit’s optimism for too long.  
  
He would do wise to not be so naïve regarding what was yet to come.


	8. shrike

Peering through a small niche between two stones that hid both scouts, the hobbit was first to watch their hunters as the elf shortly poked her head above his.  
  
What she would give to stick an arrow in that beast’s fat skull… much to her distaste, she knew vengeance would have to be postponed.  
  
Both misfits ducked behind the rocks when Azog’s gaze swept in their direction as if he had caught their scent, the elf being first to lift her head as they heard their hunters resume the chase along the opposing ridge.  
  
The hobbit shared a relieved look with his companion when she nodded a bit to give the all-clear, and he started to ask how long it would take for the orcs to find them when she stiffened and gestured he be quiet. Giving a silent gulp at what he could only fathom was something worse than the orcs, he looked to their far right and his own eyes widened at the sight.  
  
A large beast resembling a bear with fur as black as night paused shy of emerging from the brush, seeming to have not seen or caught their scent as of yet. Taking a whiff of the mountain air, its lips drew back into a snarl…  
  
Bilbo started a bit when Eäriel nudged him, brown meeting blue, before the latter gestured he retreat to their waiting companions. He considered arguing it but she shook her head and nodded her chin away, urging he go first; sparing a brief look at the beast, he carefully snuck away to then race back the way they came.  
  
Eäriel wasted no time in following his leave, shepherding him along when she spotted his head of curly hair, and they both gave a wince when the bear beast gave a bone-jolting roar back at the rocky ridge that caused them to pick up the pace.  
  
“The pack isn’t close, are they?” Thorin asked first when both scouts safely returned to their huddle.  
  
In comparison to the lone elf, Bilbo had stooped a bit to regain his breath, and he panted a bit as he answered, “a couple of leagues at least.”  
  
At earning an agreeing nod from Eäriel, Gandalf smiled and boasted, “told you, didn’t I? Quiet as a mouse! Brilliant burgling material, our hobbit is…”  
  
“That’s not our problem.” Eäriel stated, an odd light of elation and apprehension brightening her eyes, as she shared a look with the wizard that the latter cocked a brow at, looking away from him to their injured leader with concern.  
  
Bilbo, as puzzled as the dwarves regarding the silent exchange, looked to them and put in, “there’s another out there, a great beast! Taller than any orc, I wager…”  
  
“It was more bear than beast.” Gandalf mused, looking to their hobbit who nodded at that before pausing when seeing both taller company members were in the proverbial know regarding the new dilemma.  
  
“You knew about that thing?” Bofur was first to ask, causing his kinsmen to look between the wizard and elf, clutching his pick-axe for comfort as he proposed, “we should double back.”  
  
“And be killed by orcs?” Countered Thorin, the prospect of such a cheated demise not sitting well with both his pride and his stomach, his question causing his kinsmen to brainstorm and come up with a plan.  
  
Eäriel proposed then, earning a curious look from both the dwarves and hobbit, “there’s a safe house, not far from here… Gandalf knows of it as I do, and we can rest there.”  
  
“Whose house?” Thorin pressed, the dread of their being caught in a state of vulnerability making his voice sharp, locking stares with her as he added, “are they another of your kinsmen?”  
  
Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, Eäriel was completely calm as she replied, “in a manner of speaking, yes. I must admit that he’s not very fond of dwarves, but I can persuade him well enough.”  
  
Before their leader could question her further, another roar resounded across the mountainside and caused most if not all of the company to startle, the noise seeming to answer for her.  
  
“I think that answers your question,” Gandalf mused with a rueful look, being first to leave down the mountainside and hearing the odd party shortly follow.

  
  


Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Thorin grumped.  
  
Their ragtag party had run towards the northeast for the last few days, crossing through rugged terrain and plains as well as a couple of marshes. At the insistence of their elf, they took a few hours’ respite in a small wood on the second day before continuing, both she and the wizard knowing their stalling would give time to her _‘kinsman_ ’ so that he could return to his better self. He himself had kept up, even when Dwalin and Eäriel doubled to help him within the last few days, and his left side was still tender granted the pain wasn’t as excruciating as before…  
  
“Who is this… cousin, of hers, Gandalf?” Fili asked for the sake of the rest in their party, glancing up at the tallest member who had shuffled to linger near his uncle.  
  
Glancing away from the blonde to the other’s uncle whose gaze had scarcely left the elleth who had abandoned the safety of their patch of forest, Gandalf answered, “she visited him often when she lived in the Woodland Realm, for her mother’s sake. He’s never put a hand on her, and I doubt he would ever fathom it.”  
  
True that he had known her since she was a child, but Gandalf knew better that Eäriel had not come so far in her life without knowing how to talk her way out of situations and use force if diplomacy wasn’t an option.  
  
Thorin nodded a bit at the assurance, for a moment disliking that habit of hers to keep him on his toes that he felt was a deep-rooted impulse most elves were born with.  
  
He was first to straighten a bit from leaning against a tree when a patchy black and white stallion trotted up to her despite the various livestock grazing in the verdant field of their host’s home. The horse whinnied when she lifted her hands to pat both sides of his face and speak elvish to him in a gentle tone, shying from her hands to turn and retreat into the inner yard partially hidden by thick trees where the large house stood.  
  
A breeze stole into the field then, playing with the mane of hair left free while she relaxed just standing in the sun, and the dwarf lord’s mustache twitched in bemusement when he heard a slight chuckle escape her.  
  
It seemed that another hundred years could pass, and Thorin felt that Eäriel would remain the same even then.  
  
The house’s front doors opened then, drawing him from his thoughts as his companions also snapped to when their host strode out into the field to greet the elf. Shock seemed to sweep through them all —minus Gandalf —as fourteen sets of eyes locked on her supposed kinsman.  
  
He was a tall man, seeming taller than the elves in Rivendell, tanned with the sun and donned in a tunic-vest and trousers that were both brown. His hair and beard looked coarse, resembling the mane of a lion, with brows that hooded his dark eyes. Pausing momentarily at seeing the elleth standing in his field, their host cracked a smile at recognizing her and proceeded to break the distance between them to welcome her with a broad embrace that earned a laugh.  
  
“Stay your ground,” Gandalf urged of the dwarves and hobbit who had shifted a bit out of concern for their elf, looking to their leader who had reached for his respective sword and adding, “she knows what she’s doing.”  
  
Thorin scowled for a bit before reluctantly accepting the wizard’s assurance, looking on the elleth who gently urged the man to let her down as he was squeezing too tight. Visibly relaxing when she was placed on solid ground, he watched the two speak and strained his hearing a bit to properly hear them.  
  
“… What do I owe this sudden visit?” Her kinsman asked in a gruff voice, jovial at seeing her pretty face after nearly a century.  
  
Eäriel smiled sheepishly and replied in like tone, “it’s been too long, I know, and I hate to come to you in such a state. My companions and I have been traveling for days and, as we mean to get past the Greenwood, I hoped you would shelter us for a few days… just until we’re off again, at least. But they do happen to be dwarves, Beorn…”  
  
“Surely you haven’t forgotten I don’t care much for their kind, Eäriel… since I’ve known you, I must admit that I’m surprised to hear how fondly you speak of those dwarves,” the christened skin-changer reminded before pausing to look on her squarely and muse, “your mother’s kindness and your father’s bravery…”  
  
“Aye, I know,” admitted the elf, sobering for a moment before adding if only to return to her point, “but they are my friends and with them I am treated better than with my own people… Beorn, will you help us?” True that she had boasted of persuading the mountain of a man before her, but her confidence in his urge to help those who needed it had driven her thus far, and she hoped that she was right.  
  
Quieting at her compassion for dwarves that was otherwise foreign or unheard of by other elves, Beorn gave a slight sigh and complied, “you need not beg, child, as I know your pride won’t allow for such a thing.” At the surprised look on her face, he looked to the wood just shy of his land and nodded at where he had heard a bit of commotion moments ago, adding with a wry smile, “despite their being dwarves, you have my help nonetheless. Call for your friends as they are welcome here, but you must regale me with the tales of your journey thus far.”

  
  


Once the dwarves, hobbit, and wizard came into the open and were greeted by Beorn, he urged they follow him to his house for a spot of breakfast.  
  
“You are the one called Oakenshield, then,” Beorn mused as he poured fresh cow’s milk into the large mug Fili had been given, looking to the aforementioned dwarf who leaned against a post close to the table.  
  
Brow giving a slight twitch at their host’s undisguised mistrust towards his people, Thorin met his stare and remarked coolly, “and if I am?”  
  
Unmoved by the king’s demeanor, their host answered patiently, “Eäriel explained that you were meaning to get to the Lonely Mountain. Don’t pin the blame on her, either, as she didn’t divulge everything.”  
  
Fifteen sets of eyes looked between Beorn and the named woman who sat by Bofur and was munching on a roll that had been baked only a few hours ago. Lips shifting to a slight pout at being ogled, she nodded slightly at their host who smirked back.  
  
Shooting a mild look at their elf, the dwarf king wondered aloud, “how much did she tell you, then?”  
  
“Enough to prove you are a good man,” stated the skin-changer, watching the mentioned briefly look to the quieted woman, turning to the bigger issue and asking him, “why is Azog the Defiler after you?”  
  
Cocking a brow despite the dull twinge of pain coming from his left side that earned a momentary look from the elf, Thorin pressed, “how would you know of Azog?”  
  
“My people were first to live in the mountains before the orcs came from the north… the Defiler slew most of them but enslaved the rest, for sport. Caging and torturing skin-changers served as amusement for him,” Beorn explained grimly, and it was then that Bilbo minded the shabby shackle on the other’s wrist. He felt the elleth’s eyes on him and chose to point out, “you need to reach Erebor before the last days of autumn but I feel you are running out of time.”  
  
Accepting a roll from the elleth who had offered the platter of them, Gandalf nodded and clarified, “before Durin’s Day ends.”  
  
“We’re going to pass through the Greenwood,” Eäriel stated, sharing a brief nod with Gandalf and reasoning, “it’s the shortest route and there’s less chance of being cut down by orcs.”  
  
The skin-changer frowned and pointed out, “a darkness has befallen that forest and there’s an alliance between orcs from Moria and a Necromancer in Dol Goldur… I wouldn’t go there unless I had no other choice, were I you.”  
  
Frowning in return at the news that confirmed her suspicions, the elleth gave a sniff and mused, “then we take the Elvenpath. I know that route, and last I checked it was safe.”  
  
“Your kin are not like those of Rivendell, Wolf Child, you know that… the elves of Mirkwood are more dangerous than wise,” their host stated with finality, earning another sniff from her. He then straightened from his chair to approach the table, looking from the dwarves to their king and state, “I’m not fond of dwarves as I’ve found them to be greedy and blind to those whose lives are lesser than theirs… but I hate orcs, and she clearly trusts you with her life so you lot are allowed to stay in my home for the next few days.”  
  
Eäriel, who had begun feeding a mouse bits of her second roll, had grown quiet again and nodded at his promise, smiling when the mouse let her stroke his soft fur.

  
  


After breakfast, the company deemed a rest was in order before they do anything else. While her companions rested, she took advantage of the opportunity to bathe separately in the nearby stream as she still stunk of their latest run-in with the orcs and goblins and also because she hadn’t had a bath since Rivendell.  
  
Having found a secluded pond of fresh water that wasn’t far from the house, she all-but threw herself in and took care to scrub the excess layers of dirt and blood from her skin with a bar of soap she had kept safe, finishing the process with her hair when her fair skin almost looked pink.  
  
Deeming she had spent enough time relaxing a half-hour later, she exited the pond and redressed herself, having also located the gray tunic she had brought and throwing it on along with her brown trousers, leaving her blue leather jerkin unfastened and her feet bare.  
  
Sparing a look at the blue afternoon sky above as she thought of Beorn’s words, the elleth gave a slight exhale before she started back to the house.  
  
If Thranduil were as bitter about the dwarves now as he had been the last time she had seen him, then their party was in for another thrilling venture.  
  
Finding none of her medicinal equipment had been taken in Goblintown when she checked the contents of her bag, much to her relief, the thought she had had when leaving Rivendell of cutting her hair came to mind.  
  
Most of their kind didn’t let the thought cross their minds, far as she knew, but she was _not_ the most conventional elf, either…  
  
Several exclamations sounded when she came closer to the house, and she stopped with her bag and quiver (she had left Hathelas inside) slung over one shoulder to let the thirteen dwarves make a beeline for the stream. She sidestepped most of them and shook her head once they had passed her by as they had raced off without any clothes on.  
  
Gouging her eyes out didn’t sound like _too_ bad of an idea, the longer she thought on it…  
  
“Bilbo!” She called sweetly as the named hobbit had lagged behind to leave his coat with Gandalf, earning a smile from him even though he had no idea what she had in mind.  
  
“You beat the dwarves to that stream, I see,” Bilbo observed of the elf, minding that she looked more like herself now that she was clean, downright chipper if he had to put a finger on it. Regarding the sweet smile on her face as he had a feeling she wished to ask him something, he lifted a brow and wondered, “something the matter?”  
  
“Keen eyes indeed, my dear friend! I want to do something, and you’re just the hobbit I was thinking of,” Eäriel answered lightly.  
  
Nodding even though he was somewhat befuddled by her perkiness, the halfling asked, “well that’s good to hear… I think. What do you need me for…?” He gave a slight yelp when being whisked away by the elleth to a secluded patch of brush. Once she had explained what needed to be done, he looked from the elvish dagger she had kept in the confines of her right vambrance to the blade’s owner with an uncertain look on his face. “You’re quite sure you want to do this?” He asked.  
  
“’Course!” The elf assured with a chirpy smile that she had learned from the twins, regarding his hesitation and sobering a bit to add, “you can do it, you know… you wouldn’t have faced off with that beast back on the cliff if you weren’t the bravest halfling I’ve met.”  
  
Smiling wryly at her reminder, Bilbo squared his shoulders and puffed before complying, “okay, let’s do this, then.” He earned a gentler smile from her before she ducked and let down her mane of hair that was more like a curtain as it touched the grass by an inch. Glancing down at the dagger she had lent him, he shuffled forward to help her cut it, somehow feeling like he didn’t deserve to cut the hair of an elf but also taking comfort in her trust.  
  
Straightening and reaching to find her shortened mane came shy of the tops of her shoulders, Eäriel gave a relieved exhale and looked to her friend who minded the bits of brown hair he had chopped off. “Thank you, Bilbo,” she said as he shuffled around the locks to return the dagger.  
  
“Don’t mention it,” Bilbo replied with a shrug, looking to her and tilting his head a bit as he regarded her shortened hair, offering, “it doesn’t look terrible… sorry, again, that I’m not an expert.”  
  
Shaking her head at that, Eäriel mused, “don’t be, you did well.”  
  
Smiling at her confidence that seemed replenished if not infectious, Bilbo nodded again and shuffled away to go join the dwarves as Eäriel went to fetch a few things from the house.

  
  


Once getting the necessary equipment, she stepped out to follow the dwarves’ path and shortly found them playing in the stream. Scanning the small clearing for one dwarf in particular, she found him seated on a stout rock watching over his kinsmen.  
  
A twig flew in his direction and hit his right temple, causing him to give a wince. The dwarf king looked away to locate the source of the offense only to see her familiar face poke out from behind a tall bush... scowling at her childish gesture to earn his attention, he cocked an inquisitive brow as their stares met.  
  
She jerked her chin to the right, silently beckoning him over.  
  
Once again deeming that _this_ elf in particular was impossible, he grumped at her urgency and straightened from his seat to approach her, stopping shy of the bush and quietly demanding, “what?”  
  
“Unless you’d rather the boys see you be scolded like a dwarfling, come with me,” she mused in the same tone, tilting her head a bit as he hesitated only for the scowl from before to linger at her vague threat.  
  
“Whatever would I be scolded for _this_ time…?” the dwarf king wondered more to himself as he stomped after her when she turned to lead him away from the clearing.  
  
At finding the pond she had located earlier and coming to a stop, he started to ask what was so important only to pause at recognizing her mane of hair was cropped to the tops of her shoulders. True that he had never minded her long hair, as he knew it was a facet of all elves to have their hair long, but it was peculiar for him to see the change… “you cut it?” He asked.  
  
Looking up from having been concocting a draught for his lingering pain, the elleth paused at his befuddled tone before she shrugged and lowered her gaze. “I didn’t enjoy it being yanked on by the goblins, so I cut it… s’ not like it’s that bad, is it?” She reasoned, minding the draught turned clear once it was settled.  
  
“No, not really, it’s just… different, and drastic in a way,” Thorin mused, having paused to locate the right words, shifting his weight from one foot to the other before he looked to the cup she offered him. Looking from the cup to her expectant gaze, he cocked a brow again.  
  
Rolling her eyes at his suspicion, a facet of his she doubted would ever disappear, Eäriel placed her free hand at her hip and explained, "it's to dull the pain and clear you of infection. Elf eyes see all, especially dwarves who try to weasel out of getting their injuries patched up."  
  
Thorin took the cup, having known it would only be a matter of days until she snagged him to treat his wounds, and shot a withering look at her chirpy smile before he gave a sniff of the clear draught and then downed it. "Know that I'll haunt you if that was poison," he promised, wrinkling his nose and shaking his head.  
  
"It wasn't, and I imagine there's worse things than you haunting me," assured Eäriel before she stepped over to the short stump and, now that he noticed, small bowl with a green paste and brush that sat next to it. She met his curious gaze with complete calmness and urged, "my king, if you will."  
  
Giving a slight sniff at the formal pronoun, one she used when being cross or sarcastic with him, he gave her another look and said, "I can still carry on, actually, even better with that elixir of yours. Your nursing skills aren't _necessary_ , milady."  
  
Distinctly feeling her brow twitch at his stubbornness, she flexed her grip on the cup in hand and folded her arms before retorting, "you say that _now_ , but you know as well as I that Azog is biting at the bit to destroy the line of Durin. Between that bastard and the dragon, you wouldn't stand a chance in your state!"  
  
"I am not afraid of either of them," insisted the dwarf, stepping up to her before she could argue and lifting a hand to touch the side of her neck, causing her to stiffen and one of her hands to catch his wrist on reflex. He watched her calm as a long second passed between them, her paler blue stare flicking from his raised arm to something above his head that he couldn't reach, knowing he had seen the scratch marks she had earned in Goblintown...  
  
"Neither am I, but I do fear for the boys... _and_ you," the elleth remarked quietly, lowering her gaze to meet his even as his touch elicited a shiver, and she released his wrist in some measure of compliance with his curiosity.  
  
Thorin quieted at her words, flicking his gaze up to rest on hers and find merit in her concern, at last lowering his hand. Her sullen mood that had appeared when she and Beorn spoke of Mirkwood came to mind, but he deemed to save that for a moment where she wasn't already miffed. Giving her a brief look, he looked elsewhere again and mused, "since you won't be moved regarding my injuries..." he stepped away to take his seat on the nearby stump.  
  
Brows nearly rising into her hairline at his conceding, Eäriel quieted again and smiled fondly before she nodded and set to tending to him.


	9. to the ends of yesterday

'Whatever is the problem, this time?'  
  
'The dwarves... why did we not aid them?'  
  
_Refraining from rolling his eyes, the regal elf looked at the source of disdain standing before him._ ‘They are not our concern, as it has been for the last count of years, like you very well know, _’ he reminded before stepping away to refill his goblet from the nearby decanter.  
  
Shoulders squaring at the disinterest that didn't bely his obvious rancor for the subject, the brunette frowned and shifted her weight from one boot to the other. However her father had served this pompous goblin without much of a protest was beyond her_… ‘My lord, it’s been too long that we’ve had this bitterness for them, don’t you think? I understand well enough the bond broken between you and their king, but that dwarf was slain in battle just a few years ago. Their prince now leads what’s left of Erebor…’ _she persisted, hoping in spite of things that he would be a gracious ruler._  
  
‘I know well of their miserable lineage, thank you.’ _The blonde cut in, at last turning to her. Regarding the stubborn set of her jaw that was akin to his own save that he was in the right, he puffed at seeing there was no chance she would let the subject rest._ ‘What those homeless dwarves do is not my concern, as it should be for you. They were given what was deserved, really, and who are we to extend a hand of aid that they would just as soon as refuse? _’ He reasoned coolly, watching her blue eyes widen, and he tilted his chin up a bit to add, ‘_ now then, if you wish to continue making yourself useful, refrain from speaking of those creatures in my presence... even that should be a simple task for one like you. _'  
  
_'I... yes, Lord Thranduil.' _clipped the elleth, closing her eyes and giving a slight bow before she turned to leave him in his study, waiting until she was a good distance of walkways away before growling,_ 'damn him!'

  
x  


"Eäriel!"  
  
Shaking herself out of melancholy, the named elf looked to the one who had called her and met the curious furrow of his brow. "Right, sorry," she excused herself, taking the set of water slings meant for her from his hands and shuffling away to fasten them to her horse's saddle.  
  
The king watched her between securing his own supplies to the borrowed pony, finding the same glum expression from the other day claiming responsibility for the slight furrow of her brow. She was rarely one to frown so much, as both history and testimony from his nephews said so, though he wagered the brief downturns of her mood were caused by hearing ill of her former home.  
  
And, as much as his younger self would never believe it, he found he didn't care for her lack of optimism... it wasn't the Eäriel he was accustomed to, and for a moment he wished they weren't about to depart to Mirkwood.  
  
Once the dwarves and hobbit were settled and ready to depart from the front yard of Beorn's house, the elf looked about at finding they were shy one wizard only to locate him closer to the trees' edge speaking with their host about something. Frowning a bit at sensing his curiosity shift to some measure of sadness, she looked away at hearing a howl carry on the mid-morning winds. "Gandalf, we must go," she urged her old friend before hoisting herself into the saddle.  
  
Finishing whatever it was they had been speaking of, the skin-changer nodded to the lone elf as the wizard shortly mounted his borrowed stallion. "Go now while the light is with you, as your hunters aren't far off," the former advised them all.  
  
"Thank you again for your hospitality, Master Beorn," Thorin said with a respectful nod before he was first to follow Gandalf's leave.  
  
Lingering to take up the rear so as to keep vigilant, Eäriel smiled for their host and added, "'til we meet again, my friend." Nudging his ribs with her heels, she looked away as her stallion followed the troop.  
  
It didn't take long for the odd party to arrive to the very edges of the forest, their steeds coming to a collective halt mere yards from the first trees.  
  
Being first to dismount her horse, a half-strangled exhale passed her lips as the elleth's gaze settled on the sickly demeanor that had seemed to consume the trees of her former home. Hairs at her nape prickling with a soft bristle at sensing the magicked charge, she found with further distaste that the darkness seemed more potent the further one stepped into the wood.  
  
"Set the ponies loose so that they may go home," Gandalf instructed them, having spotted their transformed host on a hilltop not far away, looking to the she-elf as he walked to inspect the wood-carved gates. He chose to leave her be as he knew her grief would change to anger whenever she would see that elf lord, and he paused to look at the gates he stepped past and muse, "the Elvenpath..."  
  
Shouldering his bedroll atop the other assortment of supplies given by the skin-changer, the halfling looked from his fellow misfit who was thanking her horse while petting his dark face to take a few steps closer to the treeline, frowning thoughtfully. "This forest feels ill, like if it's been infected by a disease," he observed. True that he wasn't as skilled of a gardener as his neighbor Hamfast Gamgee, but he knew a healthy tree when he saw one... and unfortunately it seemed there wasn't a healthy tree for miles.  
  
"It never once looked like this, you know," countered the elleth as she had shuffled to stand near him, earning a curious look from her friend, as she added, "fresh sunlight streamed down on the forest floor, and there were so many animals that loved the tranquility of it all... oh Bilbo, it was beautiful." She wasn't looking to him, he noted, but rather at the deadened trees as she hoped however vainly that their crossing into the Greenwood would go unnoticed.  
  
"Did you see something?" Thorin asked as he approached the two, earning a shake of the head from Bilbo while Eäriel started a bit at hearing him, finding the second reaction odd even for her.  
  
"Nope, everything's the same," assured Eäriel, internally cursing nostalgia for having thrown her off guard, looking to their leader and offering a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.  
  
Knowing more or less what bothered her, Thorin nodded and accepted her smile, looking away when seeing Gandalf return from having been inspecting one of the trees past the gates.  
  
"Not my horse," Gandalf declared as Nori was already removing the former's supplies from the second stallion, brushing past the odd trio to remount his steed.  
  
"You're leaving?" Bilbo asked in confusion, frowning, before he looked between the dwarf, elf, and wizard who had paused in leaving.  
  
Regarding the general sense of confusion the odd party sported, Gandalf glanced up as a light drizzle began before he looked to Eäriel who gave a slight nod in understanding. "I wouldn't leave unless I had to. All of you, trust in Eäriel as she will lead you down the Elvenpath. Remember that this isn't the Greenwood of old, as the forest air is heavy with illusion, and the river that runs through it is no exception as both will try to lead you astray! I'll await you all at the overlook before the slopes of Erebor... keep the key and map safe, and don't go into that mountain without me," he explained before urging the horse take off, adding over his shoulder before he got any farther, "keep on the path, no matter what!"  
  
" _'Lead us astray_?'" Bilbo echoed as he looked to their guide.  
  
Shaking her head and shouldering her quiver, Eäriel replied, "you wouldn't enjoy the answer, _mellon_. Lads, we stop only to eat and sleep, now let's go." She looked to the dwarves before settling her gaze on their leader whose eyes held trust in her ability to lead them... lips twitching in a softened manner, she looked away to lead them through the gates.

  
  


Four days and five nights passed under the canopies of Mirkwood. The first three days weren't terrible, really, but things began to shift on the second night... their guide believed down to her core that whatever ilk had cursed her former home was the cause for such an upheaval.  
  
Stopping to sleep and make camp on the third night hadn’t proven well for any of them.  
  
If it wasn’t the sensation that they were being watched from the darkness beyond their small fire, then it was the massive black moths that dove onto the odd party as the firelight attracted them. Eäriel smacked away most of them with her bow she wielded like a club, and at Thorin’s command they doused the flames, casting the company in inky blackness. Being ordered to get some sleep by the elf, they went to bed hungry and cold. She herself didn't sleep a wink that night, taking watch with an arrow nocked in her drawn bow out of precaution.  
  
The fourth day they ate little and kept walking through the night, knowing noone among them wished to be greeted by the moths again if they stopped to light a fire.  
  
"Bebother and confusticate this bloody place..." grumbled the elf as she led the company down one way, grateful for her keen sight and the tug at her navel that urged they keep to the stone path covered by leaves.  
  
The king puffed under his breath at her complaining, minding this was possibly the one time he heard her gripe about anything... either she didn't care about being overheard, or she was comfortable enough around him to do so. "So explains why you didn't wish to come back here," he mused.  
  
Stiffening at his assumption, she scowled ahead and quipped blandly, "what ever gave you _that_ idea, your Highness?" Since when was she so easy to read? And since when did he start to see right through her?  
  
"Just your demeanor of late..." he declared in the same tone, distinctly seeing her back straighten even though he believed she felt he didn't notice. Against the subconscious urge to keep things calm between them, he allowed himself to feel smug at being proven correct.  
  
Risking a glance back at him as her sharp ears heard the smug undertone in his low voice, Eäriel bristled and folded her arms at her chest before voicing a catty grunt.  
  
Semi-electric silence stepped between the odd couple before Thorin cocked a brow and commented bemusedly, "I never expected you to be good at the silent treatment." When she remained silent, his brow set into a scowl and he rubbed his eyes with a hand, grousing, "you're going to ignore me all night, aren't you...?"  
  
"It's not that I didn't want to return... truthfully, I loathe the idea of seeing that pixie-faced goblin again, but I... I didn't want to return because Uncle reminded me of something that I forsook when I left the Woodland Realm." started the elleth, her voice soft and carrying time-dulled bitterness, as she broke her silence.  
  
It was quiet for a moment, again, before the dwarf king dared ask, "which is?"  
  
A hollow exhale escaped her, one given many a time when she called the Woodland Realm home, as Eäriel elaborated, "Mum sailed to the Undying Lands, as I told you, but before that she made Elrond promise to wed me to Thranduil's son, Legolas, to form an alliance between both strongholds. I was made aware of it when I got older, and so was Legolas, but we were friends before anything."  
  
"Is he as much of an ass as his father?" Thorin half-wondered, half-scoffed, not entirely enjoying the bitter taste in his mouth at hearing such news.  
  
Eäriel snorted softly and smiled, elated he wasn't as explosive about the revelation as she had imagined, musing, "no, and hopefully he still isn't. Legolas, he... he was the gentle sort, and funny, though we got up to all sorts of mischief whenever the twins were around. But that was when we were elflings... it was a long time ago."  
  
Turning quiet again at hearing her reminisce, Thorin regarded that she didn't wish to linger on the past, as she was wont to do whenever he would ask about her former home in the past. He snapped to when she stiffened a degree and look to the far left, reaching for Orcrist strapped to his back, before he watched her shake her head a bit and look forward. "Anything?" He asked, voice quiet.  
  
"No, I just... thought I saw something move." Eäriel replied in the same tone, giving a soft puff and adding in a chipper tone, "fret not, _mellonin_ , we're still in the clear." Even as she said that, she knew out of instinct more than firsthand knowledge that their trek was bound to run across something...  
  
Feeling the familiar tug to go down one direction, the elf continued on the path with thirteen dwarves and one hobbit at her back. She had only slept soundly the last night in Beorn's house, and ever since they had entered the wood she barely devoted time to get in so much as a catnap, so at this point she was running on low energy and general moodiness.  
  
She now understood why most of the dwarves had had odd dreams on the nights that they had slept, for she could swear by the Eldar that the eyes that were watching them from afar felt dark, menacing… _close_.  
  
Thorin noticed her fingers had tightened their grip on her sword’s handle, and his gaze swept about their dim surrounds to find he wasn't entirely feeling like she did. Frowning at her moody and albeit apprehensive demeanor, he began, “Eäriel…”  
  
“What?” Eäriel asked tartly, glancing about with piercing eyes as she tried to banish the blossoming paranoia away.  
  
“I will lead us from here.” He met her sharp look with a stern scowl, adding when she started to protest, “you will walk in the back with Bilbo and get some rest tonight... though you're not a dwarf or hobbit, even elves need sleep.”  
  
Having almost stopped walking, she glared at him and began, “I am perfectly. **fine**. Thorin…”  
  
“Eäriel, **go**.” ordered the dwarf king in a clipped tone, watching her eyes flash with some measure of hurt and plenty anger.  
  
Mouth clamping into a thin line, the she-elf gave a sniff and turned to storm to the back, clipping his shoulder as she went.  
  
“What's that about?” Fili dared wonder, having been walking just behind his uncle with Balin not far behind, regarding the near-tangible smoke coming from the sore elf and looking to the source of her frustration.  
  
Looking back as he could've sworn he heard her curse in elvish, Thorin snorted under his breath and shook his head. “Don't mind her, and don't pester her either, you or your brother,” he answered calmly, ignoring the curious looks from their kinsmen at his being so calm as he took point.  
  
Sharing a look with his brother when their eyes locked, Kili kept his place in line as Fili did the same, both heirs knowing that it wouldn't bode well if they didn't listen to Thorin's advice regarding Eäriel.  
  
Frowning a bit at the irritable woman, Bilbo also kept quiet and distinctly heard her grumbling in elvish as she had fallen in step with him. Judging by the dagger-filled glare she was giving a certain dwarf king, he distinctly felt her griping was nothing close to flattery.

  
  


"Found the bridge!" Called Bofur.  
  
Jogging to where he, Kili, Ori and Bilbo had strayed, Eäriel regarded the stone bridge before them and the hope that they could cross the river without trouble diminished. "Last I recall, there wasn't a bridge on the Elvenpath..." she mused more to herself at taking note of the large chunk that had been broken off from the rest of the bridge.  
  
"We could try swimming across," Kili offered if only to retain some semblance of optimism.  
  
Both Bilbo and Eäriel shared a look at the possible idea, only for Thorin to find them all with a moody scowl on his brow as he reminded them, "Gandalf said the waters were magicked, didn't he? We need to find another way across."  
  
"The Elvenpath _doesn't cross a bridge_ , Thorin... it didn't when I was here before, so I don't see why that would change now," Eäriel stated after inhaling to rein in her temper, as she locked stares with him.  
  
"You forget that you've not _been here_ for about a century, Eäriel, so _don't_ bark at me if you've got nothing vital to say," Thorin growled back, standing a bit taller as their stares held.  
  
Eyes flashing in her frustration, Eäriel growled out a curse before she turned to storm off and look for another way across the river so as to avoid turning back to slap the arrogance right out of his thick skull. Finding a patch of vines that looked sturdy enough for dwarves and coincidentally led to the other bank as they hung from the trees, she smiled ruefully before calling, "boys, over here!"  
  
"Good eye, lass," Bofur praised with a smile before it faltered when Thorin shortly followed his lead and strode past him to examine the vines as the rest of their party came over.  
  
Stopping his younger nephew who had reached to take a thick vine, Thorin reasoned to the others, "we send the lightest first..." all eyes looked to Bilbo but, before the halfling could protest, their leader looked away when their elf moved closer to the bank. "What're you...?" He started to ask when her form shifted into that of a falcon and she flew across the way, stunning them all.  
  
Landing on the other side as an elf, Eäriel looked to her companions and paused when they ogled her like if she had grown a second head. Rolling her eyes and knowing she would have to explain when they had put this fell place behind them, she urged, "any day now, ladies!"  
  
Being first to snap out of the shocked quiet, and cataloguing her sudden ability for later, Thorin shot her a scowl before lightly slapping Bilbo on the back.  
  
Shaking his head even as he grabbed hold of the thick vine, Bilbo gulped before he began crossing to where the elf stood. He slipped at least twice, and he managed to get to the safer bank thanks to Eäriel's quick grab of his coat scruff as she gently deposited him on the stone bank.  
  
Looking from him to the dwarves, Eäriel paused again and lifted a hand to palm her forehead before running its fingers through her hair, grousing, "good grief..."  
  
"Something's not right about that water, not at all..." Bilbo breathed as he managed to get the wind back in his lungs and his head to stop spinning, shuffling to stand up and add to the dwarves, "stay where you are...! Oh."  
  
To the befuddlement and exasperation of both misfits, their companions had already started to cross the river after the halfling. Some if not all of them were entangled in the vines, and Bombur was nodding off from his place stuck between Bofur and Ori's respective swings.  
  
"Job well done, boys..." Eäriel grumbled before both she and Bilbo snapped to when Thorin was first of the dwarves to land on their bank closer to Bilbo. At seeing their leader look to the far left when hearing movement in the brush, the elf was first to follow his focused gaze and gape slightly at the white stag with ivory antlers that stepped into the open with its dark eyes fixed on the odd trio.  
  
Like the elf, Bilbo gaped at sight of such a creature that looked too ethereal to be real... he perked up as time seemed to slow around them when Thorin slowly raised his bow with an arrow nocked and aimed at the stag. "What're you...?" Breathed the halfling, his voice sounding sluggish, as the stag's nostrils flared almost in goading.  
  
" **No**!" Eäriel snarled as she smacked his bow away with a hand, hearing the arrow fly to stick itself in a tree's bark, looking at the stag as it fled back into the darkened wood. Rounding on the dwarf king, she whacked the side of his head with the same hand and earned a flinch at her sharp scolding.  
  
Having started to demand why she saved what could've been their dinner, Thorin recoiled when she hit him only to then glare up at her with dangerous eyes as he all-but bellowed, " **what in Durin's name was that for? You don't know what you've done**!"  
  
"Is **nothing** sacred to you? Killing a white stag is **bad. luck**!" shouted Eäriel in just as heated a tone as she glared down at him, refusing to cower or apologize as he was being an ass again.  
  
"Thanks to your **sacred** deer, we're going to **starve** when we could just as well have caught that for dinner!" Thorin argued, watching her deflate at the reminder, clenching his bow as she held stares with him a moment longer before turning to scout their surroundings with a snarled curse in elvish as she stalked off. Watching her leave, he also deflated a bit and tucked the bow back into his quiver before using the same hand to touch where she had struck him.  
  
Bilbo stared at where the stag had been, having winced a bit at the shouting match that sounded worse than the ones the odd couple normally held, frowning as he commented in a quieted voice, "shouldn't have done that."  
  
Thorin gave an indifferent grunt at that, remarking with finality, "lucky or not, I don't believe in it... we make our own luck."

  
  


By the Valar themselves, she was going to kill him!  
  
Having grown silent since their row by the river, Eäriel kept her place at the back with Bilbo and shot a glare at Thorin every other few minutes, cocking a challenging brow when he would look back at her from his place near the middle of their troop. Inhaling as the quiet of the wood settled around them, she flexed her fingers and proceeded to fold her arms at her chest. She winced when running into Bilbo, who ran into Bifur, looking around them to find Nori was first to stop as he was at the helm. _Now what?_  
  
"Nori, what's happened?" Thorin asked as he moved to the front and looked at the named dwarf who had a nervous look on his brow.  
  
Pointing at the forest floor before them, Nori answered, "t-the path has disappeared...!"  
  
" _'Even elves need rest'_ , he says..." grumbled Eäriel at overhearing them, palming her forehead when the dwarves soon became even more lost in a jumbled mess of wanderings and wonderings regarding the Elvenpath, moreover coming to the conclusion that they were now lost. She and Bilbo had taken to the sidelines and found seating on two flat boulders.  
  
"We're _not_ lost, we just keep heading east!" Thorin stated as the older dwarves unanimously confirmed their state, scowling at them all.  
  
Dori piped up, "which way is east?"  
  
"We've lost the sun," Oín scoffed.  
  
The sun... they hadn't felt actual sunlight in days... _that was it._  
  
Having set down her bag, the elleth straightened from her seat to look to the nearby tree just as the dwarves began arguing amongst themselves again. Shaking her head at the cacophony of their voices and deeming that they wouldn't miss her, she climbed up into the tree's branches until she could see the reddened tops of the trees. Warmth stealing into her from the toes of her feet to the top of her head, she changed shape into a falcon again and burst forth from the canopy, perching on a thick branch and shifting back to properly absorb the light.  
  
"Eäriel, are you up there?" A familiar voice called, yanking her back to reality as, with a rustle of leaves, Bilbo surfaced from below and whatever he sought to say next died in his throat as he looked to the sun. He regarded the great star in the sky that made it bleed scarlet and pink as the trees' leaves themselves looked like fresh embers in the light, and he found some measure of awe amidst relief at being present. The companionable silence lasted a bit longer before he broke it, voice quiet, "it's beautiful, the sun..."  
  
Inhaling the fresh air again, Eäriel sighed softly and mused in like tone, "amazing when you take it for granted for so long, until you're left without its light..." she trailed off when a small flock of blue-winged butterflies took to the air as a breeze blew past them, causing both misfits to laugh quietly.  
  
Being first to look past the trees as the sunlight winked off something, Bilbo brightened up and observed, "there's a lake ahead, look! And the river that runs to it... the Lonely Mountain. We're almost there!" He added the last part on a louder tone as he looked down, hoping the dwarves had heard him. When neither he or Eäriel heard a reply, he called, "hello? Can you lot hear me?"  
  
Frowning when the silence answered for him, Eäriel looked to her companion and offered, "I hear nothing... I'll go down first, Bilbo."  
  
"No, let me! Thorin's still cross about earlier, knowing him," Bilbo declined, offering an assuring smile when her concerned frown lingered. At her slight pout of defeat, he chuckled before diving back down beneath the canopy, the rustling of leaves sounding in his wake.  
  
Smiling wryly at his bravery she had overheard him boast to Gandalf of only days ago, Eäriel looked to the river he had spotted and followed its trajectory that deposited into the lake mere miles away from them. Esgaroth, then Dale would be there once they crossed the lake, and lastly... Erebor. "You'd better be there for us, Gandalf," she muttered, hoping they would reunite as he had promised.  
  
The cracking of branches signaling movement only a hundred yards away from her jerked her from her thoughts, and the elf bristled at seeing the rustling was coming closer to where she lingered. Shifting to a falcon again, she rose up into the air and took a post atop the tallest branch of her tree, her piercing eyes scanning the reddened treetops as she kept silent.  
  
_'Worst are the webs..._ ' Radagast had said, sounding for all the world disgusted and angry at the beasts that had invaded the Greenwood.  
  
Watching the beasts crack branches in their descent to the lower levels of trees below, the she-elf bristled again before she heard the distant and multiple _'thud'_ of bodies dropping to the forest floor.  
  
Bilbo must've set them free, however he did it... making a note to ask him later, Eäriel realized it was her turn to secure their party.  
  
With a flapping of her wings, she dove down beneath the leaves and branches, weaving her way through the nest the spiders had crafted with grace before she dropped down on a sturdy and clear branch as an elf. Smirking wryly at soon hearing thirteen very recognizable voices, she drew her bow and nocked an arrow, keeping her loaded weapon on hand as she dropped lower and slew whichever spider lunged at her as she went.  
  
Having slain the spider that tried to eat Bombur, Thorin looked about as they were still missing their company oddballs. "Eäriel!" He called, swerving aside when a fat spider came at his left flank and ramming Orcrist's blade into the space between its many eyes, demanding at large, "where the devil is that elf?"  
  
Two more spiders barreled right for him then, only for a familiar arrow to slay the second while a head of brown crashed onto the first's abdomen, ramming her dagger's blade into its skull with a growl.  
  
Looking from under her brow at him as the beast stilled beneath her, Eäriel regarded the mixed elation and exasperation in his stormy eyes with a playful grin. "Nasty things, aren't they?" She wondered lightly, hopping off the dead arachnid with ease and retrieving her arrow from the other, striding up to Thorin and adding, "I'll take that apology, now."  
  
Having opened his mouth to remark about their ambushers, Thorin closed it with a withering look on his brow, looking away first to rush the larger spider that had spotted him. He cut it down with ease and made to kill the second that had followed only for her throwing knife to lodge itself in the beast's forehead, protesting bitingly, "you're more deluded than ever if you think I'm apologizing for you leaving us to get ambushed!"  
  
" _'Me_ ', deluded! You and your _mountain-sized ego_ have been an ass to me for the last week," scoffed Eäriel with a bark of laughter, long knives in her grip to save her stock of arrows, swerving as he did to avoid a hasty spider only for her left knife to stab into the space between its eight eyes. Rueful smile returning to grace her dirtied face as the beast gave a vain cry before dying, she locked stares with him as she purred a taunt, "but if you can't degrade yourself to apologize to a lowly elf, I understand _completely,_ your Highness."  
  
Ears turning red at her tone as they locked stares, Thorin cracked a taunting smirk in return, wiping his nose of black blood and drawling, "you truly must hate these beasts if you're _that_ angry... Wolf Child."  
  
Eäriel nodded a bit at that before looking past him at a spindly spider that descended to rush them, brushing past him to collide with the beast and send the both of them crashing into the nearby brush.  
  
Thorin shook his head again at her abrupt departure, looking about to his kinsmen and calling, "we're clear!" Movement above caused their troop to come to a halt, again, as he was first to spot the lanky flash of blonde descend from the higher branches by way of a spider's thread, the other slaying the unfortunate beast and using its body to break his fall.  
  
Skidding to a halt only feet from their leader, the blonde elf had a fresh arrow nocked in his bow and aimed it at the shorter male, drawling coldly, "don't expect for me to spare you, _dwarf_." He glared down at the caught king and heard the rest of his scouting party emerge from the brush to surround the company on all sides.  
  
Retrieving her knives from having slain another three spiders, Eäriel halted at seeing the familiar willowy frames of elves emerge from the brush to surround her friends. Chewing her lower lip, she darted behind a tree and kept at it until finding Thorin staring down a certain prince... the gods must be laughing at what was going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mirkwood Arc, pt.1


	10. to the ends of yesterday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mirkwood Arc, pt.2

Thorin glowered up at the blonde before he and his kinsmen heard a break in the brush and watched a familiar streak of brown barrel into the head of the other party, causing the other elves to startle at the ambush... the dwarf king smiled ruefully at her return.  
  
Blue meeting blue for a split second, Legolas started to punt the brunette elf off only to be headbutted square in the forehead and be knocked back. Regaining his footing and drawing a knife from his quiver, he blocked the lunge at his throat from the other elf, shoving against her only for her to kick him away with a sharp force that threatened to knock the wind from him.  
  
"I haven't been gone long enough for you to try and kill me, have I?" Drawled Eäriel as she doubled back to shield Thorin while the blonde picked himself up, scowling briefly at the other elves around them who had recognized her by voice alone.  
  
Freezing at recognizing the she-elf, Legolas straightened and took in her dirtied state before locking stares with blue eyes that used to light up when they were together... "oh _Valar_ , Eäriel." quietly said the blonde in shock.  
  
"That's him, then," rumbled the dwarf king behind her, earning her gaze and coincidentally earning a death glare from the accosted prince.  
  
"You're with them?" Said ellon demanded, his hardened stare flicking from the dwarf to the shabby elleth, stepping up to her and adding in elvish, _"we thought you dead when you left the kingdom, and now you return hand-in-hand with these greedy dwarves, with that one in particular?_ " He flippantly gestured to Thorin.  
  
_"Fate apparently decided otherwise... never mind I thought you had gotten smart and left, not stuck around to play his doting soldier._ " Retorted the elleth in like tongue, her hardened look lingering when he mentioned the dwarf king. Giving a sniff as he gave her a look at the jab, she added in common tongue, "we didn't mean to run into you lot, we've been traveling east to visit their kin in the Iron Hills and the Greenwood was the fastest route... if you could let us pass without informing Thranduil, we won't trouble you again."  
  
"You know as well as I that that's not possible, Eäriel, even moreso as you've betrayed us by befriending _them_ ," Legolas declined flatly, scowling at Thorin again before looking to her.  
  
Bristling at the label that seemed to be burned on her, Eäriel protested, "I didn't betray anyone, I..." she trailed off when they heard a crashing of brush and calls for help, scanning the dwarves with them to find they were shy one heir.  
  
"Kili!" Fili called at recognizing his brother's voice, trying to leave the clearing but failing when two elves stopped him.  
  
Eäriel started to leave as well before her right bicep was caught from behind, and she glared at the owner of the restraining hand, ordering as she squirmed and tried to get free, "let me go, Legolas...!"  
  
"Take your hand off her." Commanded Thorin as he stepped in to break them up, glowering up at the blonde and gently shoving their elleth behind him in the process, his glare deepening when his actions earned surprised looks from the elves and bemused glances shared between the dwarves.  
  
Also surprised but touched at the gesture, Eäriel shot a smug look at Legolas before she looked away to see Kili being ushered into the clearing by a familiar redhead... she sniffed at such a bitter reunion, scowling at Legolas when he then ordered they be searched.  
  
Being tasked with confiscating the quiver full of knives and arrows, Tauriel looked to their owner who wasn't looking at her but at a tree that she seemed fascinated by. "Your sword?" She prodded.  
  
Inhaling as she shifted her gaze to the redhead's brown eyes and cocked brow, Eäriel unfastened the belt at her waist and handed Hathelas to the other's custody with a shallow exhale. "Thank you for not trying to kill me on sight, _Gwathel,_ " she said quietly when the redhead made to leave her.  
  
Pausing at the name, Tauriel looked to her former second and replied in the same tone, "I had hoped we would meet again, but not like this, _Gwathel._ " Both she-elves shared a brief nod before they looked away when Legolas was given a confiscated Orcrist.  
  
" _An ancient blade forged by my kin_..." mused Legolas as he wielded the cleaver-sword which was almost to his liking, and his piercing gaze drifted from the relic to its master, narrowing as he asked coldly in common tongue, "how'd you get this?"  
  
"It was a gift," Thorin answered in the same tone, stiffening a degree when the tip of Orcrist's blade was then trained on the space between his eyes.  
  
Legolas started to insult the king when a familiar hand shooed the sword away, the owner shuffling to block him from threatening Thorin again. _"Move._ " The former commanded in their tongue, and when she only crossed her arms at her chest and shifted her weight from one foot to the other, he shifted the sword to train its blade at her throat as he repeated, " _Eäriel, move."_  
  
"If I move, it's only to kick you in the jambags for threatening my king. Compared to your delusional father, Thorin Oakenshield is deserving of respect that neither of you elflings will give!" Eäriel drawled, lifting a brow when the blonde bristled and grabbed the front of her jerkin, musing to him, "you're actually going to kill me, are you, for your dearest _Ada?_ "  
  
"I'm honestly considering it, yes," Legolas retorted bitingly, glaring at her heated stare.  
  
Eäriel snorted under her breath and growled back, "then go for it, princeling, if killing your betrothed to appease that goblin is really what you want out of life."  
  
Inhaling even as he kept a cold look on the brazen elleth, Legolas released her and snapped at his party to escort the odd troop back home for questioning, breaking stares to stride away and take point.  
  
Having been quiet through the whole exchange and following the elleth when being prodded in the back by one of the other elves, Thorin found a proud and rueful smile had glued itself to his face. "That went well," he mused moreso to her, knowing she heard him.  
  
Eäriel, who had quieted at minding they were missing their burglar, looked back at Thorin and regarded the pride in his eyes that caused her cheeks to warm, giving a wink before looking forward.

  
  


The dwarves that had not set foot within the Woodland Realm’s halls carved out from the mountain, muchly resembling the ancient Menegroth she had read of in younger years, briefly marveled at the intricately woven pathways made of stone and tree.  
  
She herself compared it to the open beauty of Rivendell, or even the high-rising Mallorn trees of Caras Galadhon, having walked through the stone kingdom many a time long ago, cataloguing which path led where, particularly the ones that led to escape… yes, she remembered this place well.  
  
A protest drew her back to reality, and Eäriel frowned when Tauriel led the company down to the dungeons with another four elves securing them, leaving she and Thorin to be escorted to speak with the Elvenking by Legolas. She honestly considered shifting if the doors hadn't just been sealed shut, but instead gave a withering look to the blonde elf who ushered them both along.  
  
Given she believed Thranduil had sealed off the various escape paths, Eäriel knew he wouldn't _dare_ seal off the one she had used.  
  
Wordlessly the odd trio crossed the long pathway crafted by tree roots to come to the stone dais, the throne itself seeming to have been placed purposefully smack-dab in the center of the kingdom. Both Thorin and Eäriel believed so, anyway, given the presumptuous elf lord was slouching on his cushioned chair.  
  
To anyone who hadn't seen him before, Thranduil seemed a grand sight with his ring-wearing hands and silk robes and the crown of twigs placed on his head of blonde hair. The named elf lord roused at seeing the odd couple that were brought to a halt before his throne, thick brow furrowing a degree as his icy gaze flicked from the shabby-looking dwarf to the no-less-shabby elf... for a moment he wondered if the gods despised him enough to bring _her_ back to his halls.  
  
"This is a surprise, indeed... what do we have here?" He asked coolly of his son. He minded the younger blonde had scarcely let his gaze leave the returned elleth.  
  
"Intruders, milord... we found them fighting off the spiders," Tauriel put in as she had emerged from the dungeons to join Legolas, glancing briefly between the odd couple and her king.  
  
Having straightened a bit if only to sip from his nearby goblet, the older elf mused, "how interesting. What would possess them to dare and enter _my_ forest, I wonder...?"  
  
"Dreadfully sorry, but we **can** talk, you know." Interrupted the rogue elleth, cocking a brow at her former king who glanced at her.  
  
Legolas started to snap at her to clam up but paused when his father silenced him with a raised hand, watching the other stand from the chair to better survey their prisoners, his blue eyes looking from his father to his betrothed again.  
  
Thorin glared at the elf lord who passed by his left side and emerged from Eäriel's right, shifting his weight a bit out of a sense of protection for her. He wasn't entirely aware of what the consequences would be for her, an elleth who went rogue and allied herself with dwarves, but he prayed death wouldn't be on the proverbial table.  
  
Even if they bickered like an old married couple and were too damn stubborn to ever admit anything, he wouldn't deny that his life would be empty if she were suddenly taken away.  
  
Lips twitching in a bitter sort of manner at seeing the shorter king attempt to protect the elleth, Thranduil straightened to stand before the odd couple, his words for the taller of the two as he said, "dear girl, I had hoped time would tame that tongue of yours... you are as brash and uncouth as before, but it matters not. I was promised a marriage and, if you wish to be free, then you and Legolas will marry a week from today."  
  
"And what of the dwarves?" asked Eäriel then, voice strangely quiet even though she was otherwise wishing she was as far from the Woodland Realm as she could get.  
  
Thranduil risked a look at the dwarf king and found he was looking on the brooding elleth, scoffing at her question and answering, "these greedy creatures? Gods know they should be fed to the dragon, but I am feeling gracious today... they will be imprisoned, before telling me what their true motive is for coming this way."  
  
Thorin, having shot the blonde a death glare, risked a look at her and found her face blasé... he valiantly quelled a smug smirk from showing on his face. Counting it an irony that he knew her better than her former king did, he knew beyond anything that she would never agree to such a half-assed bargain...  
  
"That **is** enticing, actually," Eäriel's calm voice drew the dwarf from his thoughts, missing the incredulous rise of his brows, and she looked pensive. Regarding that the blonde before them looked positively smug about it, she tilted her head a bit and looked at him as she drawled, "but I must decline. I'd rather die by the hand of Sauron than marry anyone I didn't love... as I said, Thorin Oakenshield is more deserving of respect in comparison to _**you**_ , a hollow gremlin of an elf lord!"  
  
The trio of elves present seemed shocked by her next choice words that were yelled in an angered tone, but Thorin was watching the scene play out with satisfaction. True that he didn't understand a word of it, but by the stunned expression that looked permanently stuck to Thranduil's face, he would admit he wished he **did** if only so that he could memorize the insult for later use.  
  
A hollow _'fwhack_ ' sounded then, cutting into the tense air of the hall.  
  
Head cocking back a degree as a string of pain flooded the left side of her face, Eäriel heard the snarled curse in dwarvish escape Thorin as she straightened a bit and looked up past locks of hair that impaired her view to regard the seething look on Thranduil's face.  
  
"Noone has **dared** speak to me so crudely, and I am not about to let an orphaned stray be the first!" The elf lord bit out coldly, his icy gaze flicking from the enraged dwarf to linger on the other blonde who had winced at his treatment of the rogue elleth. _So he still cared for her, despite everything_... "but as I said, I am feeling gracious. You will be imprisoned in my dungeons... a thousand years should be enough of a lesson, I deem." finished Thranduil, and he gestured she be taken away.  
  
Shoulders slumping in some measure of relief, Thorin watched the other blonde be first to usher Eäriel back the way they came to head to the dungeons and he caught the brief look she shot him with before being led away. His mustache twitched in a smile that he tried to hide.

  
  


"Lass!" Bofur was first to greet their elf as his cell was closer to the entrance, causing his kinsmen to snap to in their respective cells, beaming at seeing her returned to them.  
  
Eäriel looked about at the dwarves in their respective cells and smiled for them, however briefly, before she looked to the cell one guard was stationed at, waiting for Legolas to deposit her there. She bristled on habit, hating feeling like a caged animal, but kept her silence even as she was unshackled and pushed inside. When the guard was dismissed and it was only the prince who lingered, she turned to look at him with a raised brow.  
  
Thinking of her outburst on the dais, one of only a few if memory served, Legolas regarded her curious expression and asked, their language sounding smooth despite the softened tone he carried, " _why him?"_  
  
_"Even if I knew, you think I would tell you?_ " she wondered in like tongue, sobering at his question and turning away again to take a seat at the bars of her surprisingly-spacious cell.  
  
_"In another time you would've, yes._ " He retorted in a quiet tone, the frown from before returning to his brow when she didn't look to him, and he lightly gripped the bars as he added, _"you had a home, friends, a family... you don't deserve this and you know it. You can walk away from this mad quest,_ mell nîn..."  
  
"Is that coming from you or Thranduil?" She asked in like, anger seeming to singe the spoken name of the elf lord, refusing to meet his eyes even though she sensed him stiffen. Quieting for a moment, she added ruefully, "and don't call me that, either... it doesn't sound right."  
  
The dwarves in their cells had grown quiet and listened to the exchange, the quieted tone both elves spoke their native tongue in belying the frustration one had for the other. Those in the neighboring cells to Eäriel's straightened up when Legolas said no more and stepped away from her door to leave the dungeons, his soft footsteps being the only noise signaling his departure.  
  
Giving a hollow sigh that sounded strangled at the end when the seconds trickled on, Eäriel raised a hand to rub the back of her neck and closed her eyes as she shuddered at her new reality. They had to escape these damned cages, as Durin's Day was less than three weeks away now... never mind their burglar was still missing in action...  
  
"Eäri?" Fili called gently from a cell at her far left.  
  
Snapping to and looking over her shoulder, clearing her throat as she did, the elleth replied, "what is it, Fili?"  
  
"Those elves didn't hurt you, did they?" the blonde asked, sharing a look with his brother in their cell as they heard the slight catch in her voice.  
  
Smiling at the heirs' worry for her, she sniffed and moved to sit with her back to one wall, replying gently, "'s nothing I can't handle... don't worry about me."  
  
"We all heard you defendin' Thorin up there," Nori commented in a cell next to the princes'.  
  
Dwalin puffed from his cell across the way, agreeing, "you did good, lass. None of us knew what the hell you told those pointy-ears next, but you did good nonetheless."  
  
Listening to the murmur of agreement from the other dwarves, Eäriel gave a weak laugh as she felt proud, happy, and sad all at once. "Thank you, Master Dwalin... I wish none of you were in this godsforsaken place, Thorin least of all... you lot deserve to be crossing the Long Lake, not stuck in these cages..." she confessed before trailing off as their odd party heard the raised voice of Thorin up above.  
  
"... turned from the suffering of my people! **Imrid amrad ursul**...!" Bellowed the dwarf king before the sharp hiss of a rebuttal from the elf lord quieted him.  
  
Having strained her ears a bit to properly hear, Eäriel frowned again as she was first to hear, "... you _and_ that lovesick she-elf have said enough for one day, don't you agree?" Taking on a cool tone as he composed himself, Thranduil added, "I warned your grandfather of his own greed, as much as I dealt advice to my late captain of the guard, but I will say no more. Stay here and rot if you will... one century is barely a blink to an elf! I can wait however long I need to until you tell the truth, o great King." A shuffling of robes was heard next as the conversation met its end.  
  
Smiling proudly at the dwarvish curse, one Fili and Kili had taught her not long ago, Eäriel drew away from the bars and sat against the righthand wall. She straightened to her feet as the shuffling of boots on stone came from just outside her cell, ready to kick and claw her way out of being interrogated next, only for the new prisoner's shackles to be removed when the door opened for her cellmate to be thrown in with her. She brushed past him and kicked at the bars as the guards were leaving, calling, "you forgot the royal robe and scepter, ladies!"  
  
Shaking his head at her sass, otherwise glad their elf was faring well, Balin stepped up to his respective bars and asked their leader, "did he offer a deal?"  
  
"He did! And I told 'im to **ish kakhfe ai-'d dur-rugnu**..." scoffed Thorin before he glared at the echelons above the dungeons and added loudly, " **him and all his kin**!"  
  
Despite the amusement of the older dwarves, Balin afforded a rueful smile and mused, _"that'll_ do it, then... a deal was our one hope."  
  
Looking past the bars as he heard his adviser shuffle into the recesses of his own cell, half-expecting their missing halfling would appear as if by magic, Thorin mused more to himself, "not our only hope."  
  
"When you actually **do** defile his grave, would you care to include me?" Eäriel asked calmly, having shuffled away from the door, turning to look at her cellmate.  
  
Quieting at her request, and out of elation that they were together again, Thorin regarded the sincerity in her eyes that didn't hide the other emotions there. "Given how much you despise him, you may put him in it yourself," he agreed in the same tone.  
  
Fair face cracking with a chuckle that was shared by the dwarf king, the elleth looked away as her smile faltered to be replaced with pursed lips that tried however vainly to quell the emotions that surmounted inside her like a wave, and she lifted a hand to cover her mouth.  
  
Watching the bottled-up emotions play out on her face, he stepped up to her and began quietly, "Eäriel..." he would be lying if he didn't say he was surprised when she stepped closer to pull him into an embrace. Feeling his face flush at the sudden gesture, he calmed and reciprocated all-too-gladly as his strong arms held fast to her waist. Hearing and feeling her shudder in his arms, he glanced away from the blue fabric of her tunic when she spoke with cracks in her voice that he didn't know were there.  
  
"I'm sorry... Thorin, I'm so sorry. I-I never meant to come back here, for you and the boys to be caught up in all this..." she croaked an apology, trailing off when he tried to shush her and get her to calm down.  
  
"No, you did well, Eäriel..." he assured, voice quiet again, drawing away a bit to look at her and mind she wasn't as lanky as he always assumed.  
  
Giving a sniff at his urge to comfort her, something she imagined he wouldn't have dreamed of doing in the past, Eäriel smiled for him and watched his hand lift to gingerly trace the pads of his fingers along the fading handprint... truthfully, his touch made it feel better.  
  
Brow having furrowed as the scene replayed itself in his head, Thorin watched her keep his hand on her cheek and mused with anger starting to bleed into his voice, "I'm the one who's sorry, for not protecting you..."  
  
"I told you before, didn't I, that whatever happens to me isn't your fault?" Eäriel quieted him, watching him calm the longer their stares held and her eyes softened when he puffed under his breath out of defeat, releasing his hand to brush stray strands of gray from his brow.  
  
Doing his damnedest to keep the flush from reddening his cheeks at minding she looked more beautiful now despite looking as shabby as he did, the dwarf gave her a mild look from under his brow before adding dryly, "aye, you did. Thank you for defending me, as well... I'm not sure what it was you were yelling in elvish, but it was amusing to say the least."  
  
Allowing a giggle at the reminder, the elleth reluctantly drew away to retake her seat, watching him take his own across from her and imagined that his muscles ached for rest like hers did. "If you must know, it was something... well, something akin to your vowing to defile his grave," pausing for a moment, she risked a look past the bars and added in a hushed voice, "it's not something that young dwarf ears need hear."  
  
Folding his arms at his chest as he shot her a look somewhere between amusement and exasperation, Thorin snorted under his breath when earning a cheery look and mused blandly, "I think we're lucky that they don't know elvish..."  
  
"Well, I wouldn't say that... **ow**! Fee!" Kili started to hum before yelping when being slugged by the named blonde.  
  
Fili, having shot a warning look at his accosted brother, leaned against the bars of their cell and put in, "we won't tell anyone if you translate it to us, Eäri, honest."  
  
Rolling her eyes as her respective cellmate grumped at his nephews' wheedling, Eäriel chuckled, "sorry, Fili, but it's on a need-to-know basis."  
  
Thorin heard his nephews' barely-muffled whine in the seconds that followed and he smirked at her, his eyes softening when she chuckled.

  
  


A day, or two, came and went. The company slept through most of it, save when it was mealtime. Most of them shot wary looks at the trays of food distributed to them in their cells, but ate nonetheless when finding the meals weren't poisoned.  
  
It was on the evening of the second day when the dungeons were quiet save for the snoring dwarves. Their elleth couldn't find it in herself to blame them as they had all gone nearly a week without sleep... she sat by the bars with her knees drawn to her chest, listening to the general quiet around her. Looking away from the lanterns that glowed brilliantly as day turned to night, her gaze landed on the sleeping king who had retired on her side of the cell.  
  
As she had taken watch for most of their journey, she had forgotten that in stark comparison to his kinsmen, his snores were quiet. Regarding that he was oddly at peace given their current location, her eyes softened with a likewise smile crossing her lips.  
  
With the, however brief, exception of Legolas, she had scarcely dedicated time to fancying a romance with anyone. It was a dream that was meant more for her sister Arwen than her, and she busied herself with combat and... and caring about her friends.  
  
Looking at the sleeping dwarf again, the she-elf felt her face flush as she wondered whether he was still her friend or whether he had become something more.  
  
"Eäriel!" A familiar small voice hissed then, yanking her from her thoughts.  
  
"Bilbo," the elleth breathed in relief, looking past the bars and angling her head to look between both sides of the walkway to find he was nowhere to be seen. Maybe being in Mirkwood as long as they had was finally affecting her, too...  
  
Shoulders slumping in likewise relief at her being awake, the invisible hobbit looked about at the quiet dungeons from his seat by her cell and said, "I'm so glad you're all safe... this place is a maze if I've ever seen one! I've tried looking for some way of escape but it's virtually impossible."  
  
"I know, it's something I failed to mention before we even set foot in the forest... sorry." Eäriel chuckled softly, knowing without seeing that he shot her a look, adding, "there **is** an escape route, though..." She then explained the plan she had been concocting for the last twenty-four hours, telling him that she would retrieve her weapons while he took the keys for the cells and lead the dwarves to the cellars.  
  
Nodding and looking about at hearing a snort escape one dwarf nearby, Bilbo proposed as a proverbial light came on, "so we just need a diversion, then, something big enough to distract the elves..." trailing off when his words caused her face to brighten in revelation, he allowed a frown she didn't see as he asked, "what is it?"  
  
_"Melith-nuin-Giliath_ ," answered Eäriel, retaining her quiet tone even though she could swear her voice kicked up an octave in excitement. She smiled innocently at sensing the confused look from her little scout, elaborating, "it's a harvest feast that wood elves celebrate before winter's coming. It happens around this time of year but, if I'm correct, then it should happen tomorrow... it's brilliant, Bilbo!"  
  
Nodding and finding himself grinning at the prospect of leaving this stone maze far behind him, Bilbo looked away at hearing footsteps coming and he hopped to his feet before agreeing, "so tomorrow? I mean, I can stay hidden until then, as noone's noticed me yet."  
  
"Sounds fair," Eäriel nodded along, also pausing at hearing footsteps, before she urged quietly, "tomorrow it is. I hear someone coming, so go, and be careful, Bilbo."  
  
Giving a quick nod before he dashed away down the righthand stairs that led to a lower shelf of stone, Bilbo paused to double back and poked his head above the top step to find the redhead elf who seemed in charge of the dungeons coming to a halt at Eäriel's cell.  
  
He had seen the blonde elf, her betrothed that she had fought off in the forest, come to check on her in the night when everyone was asleep. The prince seemed to stand there for hours, Bilbo noted, before Thorin had growled at him that she didn't have anything to say and that she was sleeping. His words earned a glare from the blonde who straightened a bit and spared her a last look before leaving them be.  
  
Maybe it was the effects of being in that cursed forest as long as they had, or maybe he was actually witnessing a miracle, but Bilbo believed that Thorin's heart was won by their she-elf who goaded danger and swore loyalty to the line of Durin... maybe, just maybe.  
  
Looking to the parcel that consisted of a couple of rolls and two green apples as it was pushed in from the other side of the bars, Eäriel met the other elleth's gaze with some surprise before she sobered with a thankful look. "Looks better than dinner did," she mused quietly.  
  
"The king deemed that you lot eat stale food as some kind of punishment, but he's still sore." Tauriel offered in the same tone, looking about for a moment before adding with a wry look at her former second, "I think your being back unsettled him, honestly... he's been grouchier for the last two days, even with the feast happening tomorrow."  
  
Having given a snort at the news, Eäriel chuckled, "you should know well that I won't take back what I said." At the redhead's mild look, she shrugged innocently.  
  
Both women looked at each other for a moment before they shared a soft chuckle.  
  
"You haven't changed at all, _Gwathel_... always voicing the opinion we all shared." Tauriel mused with a smirk.  
  
Eäriel shrugged again and fiddled with the worn lip of her right boot, knowing Dis' knife was still tucked at the back of said heel. "I felt rather guilty when I would do that to Uncle, but it's actually fun when it comes to Thranduil... sorry you had to hear all that, though, _Gwathel,_ " she admitted with an apologetic glance.  
  
Tauriel rolled her eyes in return, knowing the other apologized because she was youngest between them, looking past her old friend at the sleeping king just out of the light. _"I'm still surprised they're treating you so kindly... that one, especially. He seems like he's angry about something,_ " she observed in elvish.  
  
_"He always looks like that, but he... neither he or his kinsmen are cruel, or mean, to me_ ," assured the brunette in like tongue, nostrils flaring in amusement, also looking over at her cellmate and letting her eyes linger on him for a moment.  
  
Regarding the wistful tone that entered the other's voice, the redhead smiled serenely as she commented, _"suppose Legolas has reason to be jealous, doesn't he, as your heart is clearly spoken for._ " At the other elleth's surprised gaze that rounded on her, she cocked a brow.  
  
_"I-I... that's rubbish. I only defended his honor, and protecting a king is something you know well of, Tauriel,_ " groused the brunette as she scowled at the smug spark in the other elleth's eyes, folding her arms at her chest and pretending to take interest in the lanterns.  
  
" _But you care deeply for your king, don't you?_ " At the reddening of the other's pointed ears that began to brighten her cheeks, the redhead smiled and added knowingly, " _I understand he told Legolas to sod off the other night, if only to keep you from any further stress... he cares for you, you know. I would wager he wishes you were free of this cell, too... but I wouldn't know how dwarves think, would I?"_  
  
Quieting as she glanced over at the mentioned dwarf who gave a slight exhale in his sleep, Eäriel sighed through her nose and mused in common tongue, "that's true enough... your sharp eyes still see all. You should go, though, before we're discovered. I'd rather he not chew you out, only because I doubt I can stomach one of his damned monologues."  
  
Nodding a bit in agreement, and pretending the other wasn't dodging the apparent inevitable, Tauriel shuffled to her feet from having sat by the bars and replied, "they've gotten worse than they used to be, too... it was good to talk with you again, Eäriel. It's been dreadfully boring without you."  
  
Sharing a bemused smile with the redhead, the brunette watched her leave and raised a brow when the former lingered by the door of the princes' cell. Shaking her head at the younger elf's curiosity, she watched the other then leave their shelf before straightening to take a seat near the dwarf. Folding her arms at her chest after plopping down, the elleth looked to her cellmate again before giving a soft sigh and closing her eyes to get some rest.  
  
Gods knew she would need it.

  
  


Having awoken with a crick in his neck, Thorin rubbed the spot and looked to his cellmate who was pacing through one eye.  
  
He had briefly awoken earlier in the night when the lights had dimmed, finding her curled up on her right side while facing him. As he found himself doing since they had seemed to grow closer within the last count of weeks, he looked on her fair face and found she looked at peace with the world.  
  
Eäriel had done so much for their quest, staying even when she could just as easily have run off in the dead of night, going so far as to deal with his temper and suspicions... she deserved better than any of this. He could tell her to go home, back to Rivendell where she felt best, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.  
  
He didn't want that... ironically, he knew that she would argue the same if he so much as voiced it, as she would state that she was at home with the company, that she was happiest with him... Thorin Oakenshield was in trouble, he knew that, so much so that it made him smile as he didn't mind being stuck with her for however long that would be.  
  
"Well bless me, I didn't think you could grin like that," the one he was dwelling on commented lightly, yanking him back to reality.  
  
Regarding the curious and amused curl of her lips as she looked on him and the embarrassed flush of color in his cheeks, Thorin gave an indifferent grunt and retorted, "haven't the foggiest of what you mean."  
  
Rolling her eyes and giving a cough to cover up a giggle at his sore look shot in her direction, Eäriel leaned her hip against the wall and mused for his sake, "fret not for once, I won't tell a soul of your newfound skill."  
  
Giving a slight puff as he pretended she wasn't still smirking, he paused at the reminder. "That reminds me, you owe me another explanation." At the lift of her brow, he continued calmly, "you never explained how is it you can transform into a bird... never mind that Beorn being related to you is still a mystery."  
  
"Right, that..." she muttered, regarding the curious look on his rugged face before she exhaled and sank to the floor before him, rubbing an arm as she explained, “well, I might've forgotten to mention that my mum was one-fourth Edain… the Edain, as you’ve seen, can change into whatever animal they choose. I prefer to change into a wolf or bird, honestly, but that’s me. Mum often told me she would change into a falcon, but she stopped it all when she married _Ada_ … Thranduil and the other elves always claimed she was a half-breed, though, but she didn’t let them bother her.”  
  
Also tucking the newest information away for later, Thorin stroked the scruff of his beard as he listened and he looked up at her when she had grown quiet again, seeming to expect him to poke at her as well. “He mentioned something about his late captain of the guard, the other day… was that your father?” True that he knew time was passing them by, but as the time to flee wasn’t yet upon them…  
  
“Surprised he still remembers him,” Eäriel scoffed at that, having drawn her knees to her chest, looking at the wall behind him as if seeing something he couldn’t as she said, “his name was Húldaer, and he was a brave elf. He and Thranduil never saw eye to eye, but he served his father Oropher until the old king was slain in battle… _Ada_ was favored more than Thranduil, according to Mum, due to his fighting prowess. He would’ve loved to meet you, I think, you and your kinsmen.”  
  
Quieting as he, ironically, found little reason to dislike the late captain, Thorin puffed in agreement, “if he was anything like you, then that wouldn’t be the _worst_ idea.”  
  
Eäriel did nothing to fight the proud beam on her face at that, thinking back to the plan she and Bilbo had concocted the other night and her smile faltered a degree. She released her knees to reach into her right boot and withdraw the gifted knife, seeming to surprise Thorin at the revealed item she had kept well hidden and the fact that she stood to kneel before him to take his left hand and place the knife in his palm. “Hold this for me,” she requested.  
  
Looking down at the blade to find it was the same that his sister had made for her, Thorin lifted his gaze to meet hers, and he asked, “why?”  
  
“A promise that I’ll return to you… not that I think there’s a flaw somewhere in this scheme of ours, but it never hurt to take precautions,” explained Eäriel, glancing down at the gift and shrugging innocently, before she met his gaze again with softened eyes and added in a playful tone, “you can degrade yourself to do that, can’t you?”  
  
Remembering she had drawled the same to him in the forest, Thorin gave her a dry look that was met with a head-tilt, squeezing her smaller hand and remarking coolly, “knowing you and your impulsiveness, yes.” He smirked when she pouted a bit at his poke.  
  
“Eäriel?” A familiar voice hissed then from outside of the cell, causing both occupants to draw away from each other. Risking a look around him at the otherwise-vacant dungeons, their invisible burglar added, “it’s time.”  
  
“Coming,” replied the named elf as she shook her head to try and ward off the flush in her cheeks, and she hesitated to then look back at their leader and inhale before stepping up to him and leave a soft kiss on his lips. Blue eyes soft when the dwarf snapped to at her sudden gesture and his face turned red, she winked at him before turning to change into a thrush.  
  
Both dwarf and hobbit watched the changed elf take to the air and proceed to dive down into the lower echelons where the armory was.  
  
Lifting the pinched keys from his coat pocket, Bilbo removed his ring and set to unlocking Thorin’s cell, looking at the dwarf and wondering, “she ever explain how she can do that?”  
  
“It’s a long story,” answered Thorin with a shake of his head and a wry look, taking the keys to help him free the others. Once the others were out of their cells, he perked up when they started to leave via the stairs leading to the floors above.  
  
“No, down here, come on,” Bilbo urged of the troop, hearing their heavier footsteps shadow his when Thorin ushered them to him as he took point in leading them downstairs.  
  
The odd party risked a glance or two behind them, to ensure they weren’t followed, as they made it to the lowest wine cellar. Their hobbit stalled for a moment when they found the room was occupied by four elves seated at a table on the right, sleeping off the strong wine… “right, all of you, into the barrels.” He instructed quietly as they came to a halt before a wall of barrels with thirteen that he had set aside for the dwarves already on the trap door.  
  
“Those elves will hear us,” Dwalin countered with a flippant gesture at the sleeping pointy-ears.  
  
Bilbo refrained from palming his forehead. “N-no they won’t, I promise, you lot have to trust me…” he pleaded, barely stifling a groan when the twelve dwarves took a moment to huddle together on the plan, and he looked at Thorin for aid.  
  
“Get in, all of you,” Eäriel snapped in a hushed voice as she appeared then with her weapons on her person, having strode down the stairs and now glaring from her friends to the elves nearby.  
  
Thorin smiled elatedly at having her back, shushing those of his kinsmen who voiced their relief at seeing her, sharing a likewise look with Bilbo before he joined the others in scrambling into a barrel on the bottom of the two rows.  
  
Bofur was first to poke his head out when Bilbo walked infront of the barrels and checked that all were accounted for, asking the other, “what do we do now?” The other dwarves simultaneously poked their heads out and also looked at the halfling.  
  
“Hold your breath,” Eäriel advised as, after they both shared a nod, she and Bilbo grabbed hold of the heavy lever that opened the trapdoor and pulled it backward so the barrel-encased dwarves dropped into the stream beneath the castle.  
  
“You’ve got everything back, then… _E-Eäriel!_ ” Bilbo began to ask before voicing a surprised squeak when he was hoisted up by the named elleth as they shortly followed the dwarves’ leave, giving a slight yell as they dropped with a collective _‘splash’_.

  
  


Bilbo was first to resurface, giving a gasp as Eäriel emerged in like fashion, earning a laugh from her when he shook his head of the cold water.  
  
“Missed me?” Eäriel asked lightly, swimming over to Thorin’s barrel as Bilbo did the same with Nori, brushing wet locks from her face and beaming.  
  
“Job well done, you two,” Thorin said to their misfits, minding the elleth looked happiest in the moment, and he led the way for the rest of the party as their stream deposited right into the forest river. “Hang on!” He called to the others.  
  
Giving a slight yelp as the tumultuous current tugged and forced them to follow its course, the elleth clung to his barrel by the ropes on its front side before looking past the cold waters as Ori voiced a cry of aid when his barrel was divided from their party by a bend in the river caused by a tall boulder. “Ori!” She called before a horn resounded at their backs, whipping her head back and feeling horror bleed into her veins as she spotted a familiar prince on the gate. “Valar, no…” she breathed before looking at her friends and commanding, “speed it up, come on!”  
  
“No!” Shouted the dwarf king as the grates of the stone bridge yards away were shutting, and he swore when his barrel was first to hit the closed latticework, looking back as the others’ barrels bumped into his.  
  
Eäriel looked past the dwarves and inhaled as she recognized that she would have to be the one to make an exit for them. Sparing a look at their king, she released his barrel and dove underwater, swimming around the barrels to resurface on the right of the alcove near the opening. Drawing her long knives as she regained her breath, she grumbled, “I’m sorry, Legolas…”  
  
She started to enter into the open when a guttural growl sounded as an orc was knocked into the river, resurfacing just in time to be gutted by her left knife. Regarding the glowing sword that had stuck into its belly, she smirked at his jab and ordered the dwarves, “stay back, all of you, there’s orcs!” She then scrambled onto the rocks of the shore and gave a growl as she skewered the next orc by its chest, drawing her arm back to make for the lever.  
  
Ducking and weaving as well as slaying orcs in her way, the elleth nearly reached the lever when a burly orc snarled as it attempted to take her head with its crude scimitar only to growl in pain as a smaller head of brown stabbed a borrowed dagger into its sternum from behind.  
  
Shocked for a moment at the younger prince’s gesture, she kicked the dead beast away and ducked when another orc made to grab at her hair from behind only for the shorter archer to chuck the blade at its head. Knowing that he was going to be chewed out good for being so impulsive, she barked an order, “hit that lever!”  
  
Kili and Eäriel then broke away to cut down the orcs that swarmed at them, the former kicking another orc off the bridge to then reach for the lever before he heard air catch on an arrow meant for her. “Get down,” the dwarf barked as he dove between she and the black arrow that found its mark in his right leg.  
  
Wincing at the pained cry that came from him, Eäriel exclaimed, _“Kili!_ ” She looked up at the one-eyed orc that readied another arrow and lifted his borrowed blade to throw it at the archer, watching the beast stall when it stuck in his brain before falling back and dropping the crude bow. “Bilbo, take him!” She called to the halfling below as she gently pushed Kili over the ledge, watching him drop into the water before being helped up by Bilbo.  
  
“What about you?” Bilbo demanded as he helped support the injured archer, looking up at his friend who looked torn for a moment.  
  
“Just go, I will follow,” Eäriel replied sternly, looking up and straightening in time to catch a gangly orc before beheading it with ease and let its remains drop into the river. Momentarily given a chance to breathe, she yanked on the lever and slammed it down, hearing the grate open just as the dwarves were set free.  
  
_“Eäriel!_ ” Thorin shouted for her when they were departing thanks to the current, whipping his head back to find her on the bridge and time seemed to freeze around him as he spotted two orcs rush her from out of the corner of her eye… “ _ **No**!”_ He yelled against the roaring crashes of the river that carried him further and further away.  
  
A vain gurgle sounded from the corner of her eye, causing the elleth to watch both orcs fall at her feet with twin arrows stuck in their respective sternum and throat. “Holy…” she murmured, half-wondering if she wasn’t dreaming, as she recognized those arrows.  
  
_“ **Muinthel**!_” Twin voices sounded from the nearby trees as her brothers dropped in from above, both wielding their respective bow or sword.  
  
Ducking when another orc flew at her from the left only to be beheaded by her hand, Eäriel beamed at the twins and said, “bless me… c’mon!” She skirted around the dead orcs as she went to her brothers’ side, being first to scramble over the bridge and follow the dwarves downriver.  
  
"We've got the ones across the river!" Elrohir assured as he and Elladan loosed arrow after arrow at the orcs on the other side of the river, leaving their sister to take point.  
  
Eäriel all-but flew after the dwarves, only stopping in her chase to fluidly cut down whichever orc got in her way. " **Thorin**!" She cried when spotting a stray orc hop onto his barrel from a half-felled log hovering over the choppy waters, watching with amazement as he pinned the beast to the log with a crude sword and snagged its discarded axe before tossing it to Dwalin and then to Fili.  
  
Another orc that had hopped onto the rocks on the lefthand side of the river sought to kill Dwalin in his barrel, and it would've succeeded if Eäriel's throwing knife didn't whizz past the tattooed dwarf's face to stick in the beast's forehead. Both dwarf and elf shared a brief nod before the former snatched the crude axe to aid Thorin as they all hacked at the overhanging log that carried five orcs.  
  
"Nice throw," Elladan praised over his shoulder as he and Elrohir had slowed their pace to let her catch up, adding with a glance behind them, "Legolas and the others aren't far behind."  
  
The siblings continued their chase of the dwarves and looked across the way as a barrel-encased Bombur rolled along the uneven earth and crushed the orcs in his path until he landed amidst a pack of them. The sight of the large dwarf twisting and twirling as he cut down the surrounding beasts with two borrowed axes on hand earned a wry scoff from Eäriel, and she took heart when he rejoined the company.  
  
The twins shared a laugh at the blonde prince that had found himself hopping atop the dwarves' heads to cut down the orcs that had bled onto either side of the river, and he made to slay another orc that tried to get cheeky only for the beast to be cut down by the lone elleth. Both sets of blue eyes met and she shrugged innocently.  
  
"He's still cheeky, isn't he?" Elrohir laughed as he slew another orc with aid from his knives.  
  
Elladan laughed with him between aiding Eäriel in cutting down another pack with their respective arrows, "he hasn't changed since we last saw him."  
  
Rolling her eyes at the twins' commentary, Eäriel minded the two orcs that rushed Legolas when he hopped to their side of the river and she loosed an arrow at one while Thorin chucked an axe at the second that sought to kill the prince from behind. Catching the king's eye when she looked his way, she gave a nod before her brothers passed her up and she fell in step after them.  
  
"It was nice seeing you again, Legolas!" Elladan called over his shoulder.  
  
Elrohir agreed lightly, "we should do this again, soon, _mellon!_ "  
  
Straightening from regaining his breath, Legolas watched the siblings continue to put distance between he and themselves, pausing when Eäriel looked back at him before giving a sniff and looked away to follow her brothers.


	11. scotland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"may your dreams come to reality..."_
> 
> Laketown Arc, pt1

“Anything?”  
  
“Nothing so far!”  
  
Bobbing up from the submerged confines of his barrel, the hat-wearing dwarf spat out a wad of water and looked about before commenting, “I think we outran the orcs!”  
  
“We’ve lost the current, too… make for the shore, come on,” their leader pointed out as he was first to paddle to the nearby shore, clambering onto the rocks with a brief exhale of relief before pulling his barrel up. He then helped the others with their own barrels until everyone was safely ashore, looking off at the stilled river as his thoughts resumed their dwelling on a certain she-elf.  
  
“Where’s Eäriel?” The hobbit asked, wringing his coat out between looking to the river, his eyes resting on the mentioned dwarf.  
  
Having hobbled to find a seat on the higher rocks, the younger prince gave a hiss of pain at the arrow that was still stuck in his leg. Regarding the concerned looks from both his brother and the hat-wearing dwarf, he shook it off and assured them both, “it’s just a scratch.”  
  
“There’s an orc pack at our tail, we should keep moving,” Thorin stated as he looked to his kinsmen who were no less drenched than him, stormy eyes flicking to the river more times than he cared to admit.  
  
Fili piped up, “Kili’s leg needs to be patched up first, Uncle.”  
  
“We’re close enough to make it to the mountain,” Bilbo pointed out, giving a noticeable sneeze.  
  
Balin reminded between having regained himself, “a lake stands between us and the mountain, and we’ve no way across.”  
  
“Eäriel!” Ori called then, having been further away from the others and sitting closer to the rocks to dump water from his boots, causing the others— especially their king— to snap to and rush over to where he saw the named elleth.  
  
Elladan and Elrohir were first to come into view further along the bank and Eäriel then came to a halt when she laid eyes on the dwarves, particularly on a certain king whose eyes were for her. Beaming from ear to ear at seeing all present and accounted for, Eäriel brushed past her brothers to break the distance and barrel right for her companions, her arms latching onto their leader.  
  
Having given a laugh at being tackled, Thorin nearly crushed her to his chest as he felt her fingers curl in his hair and heard her laugh with him.  
  
Sharing a bemused look with his twin regarding their smitten sister, Elrohir was first to break the moment and say calmly, “we’ll just reintroduce ourselves while you two snog, s’ no big deal.”  
  
Stiffening a degree in his arms at the interruption, Eäriel voiced a slight groan as her cheek rested against Thorin’s temple and she spared him an apologetic look before drawing away to face her brothers. “Repeat that and see if I _won’t_ toss you over the falls,” she threatened, scowling at the oldest of the two.  
  
“Lovely to see you’re your usual self, dear sister,” Elladan snickered despite catching a death glare from her.  
  
Eäriel palmed her forehead and sighed wearily, reminding them of their father for a moment, before she looked to the dwarves plus hobbit and said, “you all remember my brothers, Elrohir and Elladan…” pausing when a thought struck her, she turned to ask the named elves, “hang on, how’d you two know I was in the Woodland Realm?”  
  
Elrond had the gift of foresight, but he surely wouldn’t send his only sons after her into the depths of Mirkwood… he was too overprotective to fathom it, in her opinion.  
  
“Well, we had an inkling that _you’d_ get yourself in trouble with your kin,” Elrohir started.  
  
Elladan smirked at the mild glare from their adopted sister and finished, “ _and_ , as we figured, you did. We snuck out of the compound several days ago, but it was luck that we got to you before the orcs.”  
  
“Thank you for your help, then,” Thorin said, seeming to surprise the others at his being first to thank an elf that _wasn’t_ Eäriel.  
  
Shaking off the surprise first, Bilbo wondered for argument’s sake, “I’m sure your father knows you’ve already disappeared… won’t he miss you?”  
  
“He sends us off on missions all the time,” Elrohir replied with a dismissive gesture of his hand.  
  
Elladan smiled chirpily and nodded to the elleth as he put in, “we came because we felt our big sister needed help, and it’s not like we could face _Adar_ if we did otherwise.”  
  
Making a note to clock the both of them when they got a moment alone, Eäriel gave a shallow exhale and looked to her king as she promised, “they won’t be any trouble… I’ll make sure of it myself.” Even if she had to string them up and feed them to Smaug with her own hand.  
  
Thorin regarded her weary tone and his mustache quirked up even though he folded his arms at his chest and debated on the matter for a moment. He didn’t enjoy having unofficial additions to their party, elves especially, but these two didn’t expressly come across as poncy princes… giving a brief exhale, he looked to their elleth and reasoned, “they saved your neck on the bridge, and we’re losing time to boot... they can stay.”  
  
“Didn’t think everything had to be approved by _him_ …” Elladan grumbled to his brother.  
  
Elrohir quelled a scoff and smiled brightly despite the glance from his sister, saying, “thank you, Master Oakenshield, and also for looking out for our sister.”  
  
Eäriel ran a loose hand through her hair as she had a distinct feeling that she had gotten in over her head yet again… it seemed all three elves were first to hear movement from the incline further up, and she broke away then to draw a dagger and send it flying at the would-be assailant, hearing the blade stick in a tree’s trunk and a brief curse escape the target.  
  
The twins were first after her thrown blade, ascending the incline with ease and returning to the odd company with the intruder held between them.  
  
“Alright, mate, start talking,” Elladan ordered as he and his twin dropped the man, neither ellon letting him get close to their sister or the others.  
  
Elrohir kept a hand on his sword’s hilt and put in bitingly, “preferably about trying to shoot our friends.”  
  
Pausing at recognizing their _‘assailant_ ’ to be a bearded man with graying black hair and brown eyes donning a shabby leather coat, Eäriel asked, “Bard, is that you?”  
  
The named archer perked up at seeing her and returned in his coarse voice, “Eäriel? You’re with them?”  
  
“ **You know him**?” Thorin, Elrohir, and Elladan demanded in chorus.  
  
Feeling her brow twitch at the confusion and or suspicion from her companions, Eäriel sighed through her nose and answered, “to be frank, yes. I met Bard a few years ago when I came upriver while scouting something for Gandalf… ironic that we should meet today, though.”  
  
Bard allowed a chuckle at the twist of fate, straightening and shaking forearms with the elleth. “I must apologize for scaring you lot. However did you wind up back here?” He asked as they retrieved their respective hands.  
  
“Long story short, we ran into some unsavory folk up the river and, unfortunately, we now have no way of crossing the lake.” Eäriel explained with a sheepish look, feeling a certain set of eyes stick to her like glue but she chose to ignore the feeling, wondering of him as a proverbial light came on, “you still transport the barrels, don’t you?”

  
  


Watching her count up the gold coins she had kept in a pouch tucked into the bottom of her quiver, the younger twin sulked when she extended her open hand to him. “C’mon, I won this from Elrohir in a bet…” he said if only to get some sympathy.  
  
“Elladan…” she clipped, having rolled her eyes at his wheedling.  
  
Depositing the small pouch of silver and one gold coin into her palm, he remarked when she started to step away to pay the bargeman, “s’ a bit much given you’re so chummy with him, _Muinthel_.”  
  
“Acquaintances and friends aren’t expressly the same, dear brother… and it’s to pay for our way to Laketown,” stated the elleth as she placed the coins he had given into the pouch of her own gold she had set aside, shuffling over to where Balin was tallying up the count of gold the dwarves had come up with and offering her pouch to him as she mused lightly, “that should be enough, I think.”  
  
Glad as his kinsmen that the wood elves hadn’t taken _all_ of their belongings, Balin transferred the elves’ coin into the larger pouch, and he looked up at her as he reminded, “truthfully you needn’t have done all this, lass.”  
  
Eäriel returned the look and accepted the larger pouch to give to the bargeman, remarking gently, “after letting us get stuck in the Woodland Realm, it’s the least I can do, Master Balin.”  
  
“Noone blames you for it, Eäri,” Kili piped up from a nearby seat with Fili and Bofur.  
  
Regarding her brothers’ observant selves that sat near Thorin as everyone seemed to be in agreement with Kili, Eäriel gave a shallow sigh and nodded to the younger prince as she warned, “you’re getting that leg looked at once we get into Laketown… don’t act like your uncle and try weaseling your way out of it, either.”  
  
Thorin shot her a wry look and watched her leave them to pay the bargeman steering the vessel, giving a quiet puff and cracking a small smile at her evidently-flustered self. He briefly looked up to see Bilbo had been observing him and he looked to the fog that permeated the air as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.  
  
“Payment as promised,” Eäriel said as she dropped the pouch of coin on the wheel’s pedestal.  
  
Having minded that the bag was heavy as it hit the wood, Bard looked to the elleth who wasn’t looking at him but at the foggy surface of the lake. “You needn’t have paid me so much, it’s not you who needs to get to the Iron Hills,” he pointed out in a quieted tone.  
  
“Don’t be modest, you’ve got a family to feed… gods know the Master of the town doesn’t pay you enough to do this job.” Eäriel reasoned as she waved it off, leaning her hip against the pedestal and folding her arms at her chest.  
  
Bard gave a soft scoff at the reminder and nodded in agreement, looking to the twins who were talking animatedly with the hobbit. “You’ve got an odd taste in friends, first those two elves and the dwarves, and even a halfling…” he observed with curiosity.  
  
Smiling at mention of her companions, Eäriel shrugged and replied, “I’m stuck with them, honestly… but I don’t mind it. Most times.”  
  
Shaking his head at her nonchalance, the bowman looked from her wistful gaze to the set of stormy eyes that had scarcely strayed from the elleth but gave him a death glare when feeling his observant gaze. “Your friend doesn’t like me, much,” he admitted. He didn’t blame the dwarf for being infatuated with her, though, as he knew the feeling all too well.  
  
“Sorry about that… he’s not very friendly with new faces,” the elleth chuckled an apology, looking to the hat-wearing dwarf who warned them of the ruins on the right that they were about to hit. She watched their bargeman steer the boat around the rock with ease, regarding the dwarves’ sense of relief before most of them shot a look at the man.  
  
“You were trying to drown us, weren’t you?” Demanded the dwarf king, being first to shoot a scathing glance his way.  
  
Refraining from rolling his eyes at the accusation, the bargeman remarked flatly, “trust that if I _were_ to drown you, Master Dwarf, it wouldn’t be done here.” He earned a wry glance from the elleth who chose to rejoin her friends.  
  
“Nearly had enough of that lippy tub-trader… we should throw him off the side of the boat and be done with ‘im,” the tattooed dwarf groused, earning an agreeing nod from his king.  
  
Rubbing his nose with care and rolling his eyes, the hobbit retorted blandly, “his name’s Bard.”  
  
“I don’t care about his name, I don’t like ‘im,” stated the mentioned warrior.  
  
“Whether you like him or not doesn’t matter, Master Dwalin, given he’s already been paid,” reminded the elleth as she took a seat with their king on the nearby lip.  
  
“Given you’ve gotten this far, you’ve got a plan on how to get to the mountain, don’t you?” Guessed the younger twin.  
  
Folding her arms at her chest as the question caused most of the dwarves to look to her, Eäriel shot a look at her adoptive brothers before she lamented, “yes and no. We’re going to need to request a meet with the Master of Laketown, just to restock on supplies and get another boat but, as I’ve never met the man, I’m unsure of what the outcome will be.”  
  
“Can’t threaten him, I suppose, to help us,” Elrohir mused as the others sounded a bit off-put at the revelation.  
  
“That’s not bad…” Kili commented as he looked to the older ellon.  
  
“ **No**.” Thorin snapped, causing both parties to shoot him a sore glance, and he added now that he had the proverbial floor, “Balin, Eäriel, and myself will speak with the Master, given this might require negotiation.”  
  
Balin nodded in agreement whereas Eäriel perked up at being included.  
  
“Since when are you including _me_ with negotiations?” Eäriel asked as she looked to their leader.  
  
“A couple of birds mentioned you had a silver tongue,” Fili answered lightly in his uncle’s stead.  
  
Pointed ears turning red at being ratted out, Eäriel shot a warning look at the mentioned _‘birds_ ’ who sported matching serene smiles, and the flush in her ears threatened to claim a place in her cheeks as she caught the bemused look from Thorin.  
  
“It hasn’t failed you yet, and I personally would rather you be there with us,” Thorin added calmly, earning a look somewhere between surprise and fondness from her.  
  
Eäriel smiled after a moment before she half-sighed the question, “guess I can’t refuse, can I?” Her smile lingered when a few of the dwarves chuckled at her joke.

  
  


Thorin had a scowl set on his brow as their elleth retreated to the barge after speaking with the men at the first checkpoint. Hearing someone clear their throat nearby, he looked to find Balin standing at his left sporting a knowing look. “What is it, Balin?” He asked with some uncertainty, disliking the fact that he had been caught ogling her for the second time in one day.  
  
Having recognized the look in his friend’s eye and minded that the other was perpetually doomed, Balin smiled and reasoned calmly, “she’s sacrificed nearly everything to help us, and I’ve seen how you two act with each other… you needn’t worry about our elf, laddie.”  
  
Giving an indifferent grunt at the reminder, Thorin agreed quietly, “aye.” She was more than an asset to him, though, she was gentle, and kind, and he would be a damned fool if he believed she gave affection to another in the same manner as him… _he really was in trouble_.  
  
“You’ll need to get this redressed soon,” Eäriel mused as she inspected the younger prince’s leg with a slight frown.  
  
Both Fili and the twins had helped her to yank the arrow out once everyone was aboard the barge, the older heir having supplied her with the fresh roll of bandage she had asked he withdraw from her quiver.  
  
“Don’t make that face, Eäri…” Fili urged quietly, knowing she had often concerned herself with he and Kili ever since they were dwarflings.  
  
Kili agreed in the same tone with a glance at his uncle, “never mind that a certain _someone_ would’ve gone on a rampage if that arrow had hit you instead. You’re one of us, and you’re just as vital too, Eäri.”  
  
Regarding that she was outnumbered, even moreso as both heirs gave her a knowing look, Eäriel quieted and sighed through her nose. “If that’s true then _this_ is excusable,” she reasoned before straightening to gently palm the younger prince’s forehead.  
  
Fili snickered from standing at her left, offering an innocent shrug when Kili shot him a look. He smiled in the same innocent manner when Eäriel straightened at seeing they were coming upon the second checkpoint and shot him a look, watching her leave and regarded that the twins shuffled to flank her as a precaution.  
  
“Should we start calling her ‘ _Aunt Eäriel’_ , then?” Kili wondered to his brother, rubbing his forehead with care.  
  
“All in good time, Kee,” Fili assured with a sagely nod.  
  
The older man that took the commodity papers from the bargeman looked from the other to the trio of elves and asked the lone woman, “and what is your business with our fine town, my Lady?”  
  
Eäriel smiled politely and answered, “my companions and I have had a spot of bad luck of late and, after running into my dear friend Bard, we hope to meet with the Master so that we can continue our journey.”  
  
“Not sure on getting a meet with that man, but I wish you the best of luck with your endeavors,” the older man, Percy, offered as he looked away to then stamp an approval on the papers before offering them back to Bard.  
  
“Not so fast!” A different voice said as a shorter man appeared from the shadows of the shack and snatched the papers from Percy, his dark eyes glancing down at the papers before flicking to rest on the trio of elves. “You think we’re to allow a load of troublemakers and their poncy _‘escort_ ’ into our town? I don’t think so!” He stated as he sized up the she-elf more than her brothers.  
  
Hairs at her nape prickling when the new face eyed her, minding that this man must have been born in a grease pit, the elleth gave a sniff and forced the polite smile from before to linger as she assured, “we mean no trouble or ill will, good sir, we simply wish to meet with the Master so that we can keep our stay in Laketown brief.”  
  
“I understand that, my Lady, but the Master is a busy man. It would be easier on you all if you left your business with me and, if **I** deem it important enough, then he will hear of it,” the pasty-faced man drawled, taking pride in his position of adviser to the Master, giving a sniff and locking stares with her as he asked in the same smug tone, “that’s not so difficult to handle, is it?”  
  
The twins at her back shared a miniscule look given they had minded the guards that flanked the shorter man as his decorated muscle, knowing just by his ogling and attempts to intimidate her that this man might end up kissing his ass goodbye in the next few seconds.  
  
Their dear sister was **not** one for intimidation, nor was she one to appreciate being stared at like a piece of meat.  
  
Blinking once and allowing a sweet smile, Eäriel tilted her head a bit and replied in the same tone, “’suppose not… if you’re so close to the esteemed Master, then you _must_ be Alfrid, yes? Bard’s told me so much about you, you see.” At the christened adviser’s interested face, she took a step closer to him and regarded the flush of color in his cheeks as she placed a hand on his coat lapel and drawled, “so much so that I simply _must_ have a private word with you…”  
  
Before either of the armored guards behind him could act, Eäriel forced Alfrid to hit the nearby post of the shack and used a dagger from her vambrance to stick him there by the collar of his tunic, regarding the fear and surprise in his eyes. Lips twitching into a rueful smirk as she heard her brothers reprimand the guards, she stated flatly, “now that we’re alone, I have a proposition that you simply _cannot_ deny. You tell your Master that my companions and I require an audience with him within three days, as our business is to be heard by _his ears alone_. Do that for me and I won’t use _you_ as target practice.”  
  
Both Bard and Percy snapped to when Eäriel dropped Alfrid to stride back to the barge and beckon her brothers to her. “Raise the gates!” Percy called as Bard followed the elves.  
  
Thorin regarded the odd quartet that returned to the boat as the gates were pulled open with noticeable whining from the cogs, earlier scowl returning to his brow when a content sigh came from Eäriel.  
  
"You should've used his head for knife-throwing," Elladan groused as he and his brother scowled back at the gatehouse.  
  
Elrohir folded his arms at his chest and agreed in the same tone, "gods know he deserved worse for trying to intimidate you, _Muinthel_."  
  
"My knives would've gone right through him, given how much of a grease glob he is," Eäriel mused with a chuckle, looking to her brothers and adding lightly, "but my blades shouldn't be tainted in such a manner."  
  
"Negotiations went well, I assume," rumbled Thorin when she found a seat at his right, cocking an expectant brow at her.  
  
Returning the look even as déjà vu filled her conscious, Eäriel sobered only to smile chirpily and hum, "just swimmingly, actually." Watching his bearded face adopt a sideways look, she laughed quietly.

  
  


Accepting the aid when she helped him tie the boat's ropes to the post, he looked to her and asked as it was just them, "I've never seen anyone scare the grease off Alfrid's face before... what all did you tell him?"  
  
"Haven't the foggiest what you're referring to," answered the elf, regarding the unconvinced look in his brown eyes as she straightened, removing the folded papers from her left vambrance to hand to him as she added, "here, managed to snag these for you."  
  
Smiling briefly at her quick hand as he took the papers to tuck them into his coat pocket, the bowman shrugged his quiver onto his shoulder and walked past her to lead the party to his house. "Those two looked like they wanted to gut Alfrid themselves, for a moment," he mused when she followed to lead the odd troop.  
  
"They're kind of protective of me... you should see them with my little sister, they're much worse," chuckled the elleth, glancing back at said twins and finding they looked at ease talking with the princes. Eyes soft at the sight, she added to their guide, "you know how it is."  
  
"Aye, I do," Bard agreed pensively, smiling to himself at the reminder of his own children.  
  
Looking about at the houses that had seen better days and the people going on around them in their daily lives, the lone hobbit gaped at first. He had scarcely run into the Big People, and would admit that the experience was about as intriguing as it had been when he met the elves, and he wondered aloud, "what is this place?"  
  
"This, Master Baggins, is the world of men," the dwarf king answered blandly, his dislike for being among taller folk and the general friendliness between their elleth and the bargeman causing his mood to dampen.  
  
Given everything between them, he trusted her, yes, but he also knew he wasn't the only man to find her a beauty and see her gentle disposition... for a moment he wondered why fate chose to cheat him in this way, to offer up a woman who seized her freedom and did what she pleased, who could choose better because she _deserved_ better...  
  
"Halt!" A male voice commanded then, causing the odd troop to snap to, the owner being one of the Master's guards on patrol of the marketplace. The few others in his party came to his aid when the dwarf king was first to urge they move, and the first guard snapped, "I said halt... get them!"  
  
"This is _so_ unnecessary..." groused the she-elf before she voiced a yelp when being snatched 'round the waist by the dwarf king as he had been first to grab her, hearing her brothers follow them to duck behind a housing unit, wincing when her leader skidded to a halt and made her run into his firm back when a guard rounded the corner to cut them off.  
  
"Oi, get back here," another guard barked as he found their odd quartet, starting to draw his sword before being struck in the nose by Elladan while Thorin kicked the first off the walkway into the waters below.  
  
"Split up," Eäriel ordered her brothers as the chaos seemed to kick up a notch at their actions, shoving them out to find another hiding place, taking Thorin's hand before they both abandoned their spot to find another amidst a nearby stack of crates.  
  
The odd couple paused in ducking behind the crates when one guard spotted them and rushed to seize them if he wasn't tripped by Bombur, the guard stumbling to then collide with Eäriel and knock the both of them off the walkway.  
  
"Damn it," groused Thorin as he went to her side, catching the oar Ori tossed his way and watching the guard be first to resurface. He readied to clock him but was stalled when Eäriel resurfaced next to strike the other between the eyes with a fist, effectively knocking him out.  
  
Giving a sharp hiss at the water's heightened frigidness, Eäriel snagged the guard by his jerkin and shook off the chill to try and deposit him onto the walkway so he wouldn't freeze to death, she stalled as they heard the guards' captain striding over to them. She locked eyes with Thorin and jerked her chin at the nearby crates, earning a brief scowl before he minded her instruction and ducked into hiding while she did the same by wading into the shelter of the walkway's boards.  
  
"Stay where you are, noone leaves!" The man in charge, a broad-looking redhead from her viewpoint, barked at the occupants of the marketplace as he strode closer to where Thorin was hiding.  
  
Internally cursing at his proximity, Eäriel reached for the guard's sword and readied to both drop him and spring into view to defend the king, enough so that their company could get a head-start to Bard's... "Braga," Bard's coarse voice called then, yanking her from her thoughts, and he seemed to hold something that sounded like a rag up to view as he added to the captain, "your wife would look _lovely_ in this."  
  
The christened man bristled at the assumption, retorting bitingly as he snatched said rag from the other's hand, "what would _you_ know of my wife?"  
  
The twins shared a bemused look when Bard shrugged innocently and replied in the same tone, "I'd know her as well as any man around town." Both brothers felt their sister's glare and therefore valiantly quelled a laugh, peeking around the house they had ducked behind at hearing the guards take their leave and watching the marketplace resume its calm bustling once the men were gone.  
  
"You can come out, now," Bard said to the odd party, watching the dwarves and halfling be the first to emerge from their respective hiding places.  
  
"These gits are much too serious," Elladan mused aloud with a chuckle.  
  
Elrohir chuckled as well and agreed, "they make the men of Gondor look better, even though the only fun one is Ecthelian..." he perked up at seeing Thorin helping Eäriel out of the water nearby, being first to help the odd couple with the unconscious guard she had toted along. "Never pegged you to be a clumsy one, _Muinthel,"_ he said cheerily.  
  
"S-shut it, or I string you **both** up right now and f-feed you to the dragon," growled Eäriel as she at last released the guard and shot them both a glare.  
  
Regarding that she looked like a drenched cat, Thorin couldn't help but chuckle as well, though he coughed to stifle it when she turned her scathing look on him next. For sake of peace, and on the off chance she would smack him as she did in Mirkwood, he kept his mouth shut and guided her back to their companions by his arm on her waist. Heat began to color his cheeks when she gave a shallow sigh and hugged his shoulders in return before murmuring her thanks, and he shot a look at Bard who paused in leading them to regard her soaked state.  
  
"I slipped... don't ask how," Eäriel advised plainly when their host started to ask, giving a shudder that was meant for her gratefulness of Thorin's body heat moreso than theatrics, nodding a bit when Bard shook his head at her state and resumed point.  
  
" _'Slipped_ ', she says... nothing but grace is what our beloved sister wields," Elladan mused to the heirs as he and Elrohir walked with them and Bilbo.  
  
Thorin cracked an amused smirk when his elleth snapped at her brothers to shut it, glad that she didn't draw away if only so she could warm herself up.


	12. scotland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> 
> 
> _"if all else fails..."_  
> 
> 
> Laketown Arc, pt2

Blue holding brown, the former urged gently, " _come back and he will forgive you..._ "  
  
_"But I won't forgive myself!_ " Retorted the latter, shouldering her bow and adding in common tongue, "not once has your father let orcs cross our land, yet he would let them come now and try to kill our prisoners." One of which was injured, and the other their old friend.  
  
Shaking his head a bit as her reminder brought one face to mind, the blonde stated, "it isn't our fight."  
  
"Isn't it, though?" The redhead countered calmly, regarding the brief dimming in his gaze as she continued, "this evil will grow with each victory, and if he has his way we'll hide it out away from the light... we're part of this world, are we not?"  
  
Finding her determination that sounded eerily familiar, he looked to the calmed river and mused quietly, "so you would choose the same fate?" Condemnation, exile, death...  
  
Brown holding blue, she gave a soft huff and followed his gaze before replying, "even if she loves that dwarf, Eäriel is right all the same. Told you before, didn't I, that you needn't come with me... I can reach her before the orcs can."  
  
Having seen the two of them in action, Legolas could only smile wryly at the thought of what awaited those beasts should both elleths face them. "The both of you are going to get us killed one day..." he said in reluctant defeat as he pinched the bridge of his nose.  
  
Smiling innocently at his worry and altogether glad he agreed to join her, Tauriel remarked, "hence why _you're_ the level-headed one between the three of us."

  
  


Bilbo rubbed his reddened nose gingerly, accepting the cup of tea from Bard's youngest, Tilda, with a brief smile before he took a sip. He gave a relieved sigh as it had been a long while since he had had a steaming cup of tea to ward off the cold, and he sniffed when his nostrils attempted to clog up again. A familiar gentle hand touched his forehead then, earning his gaze that met the owner's blue eyes, and he assured, "it's just a sniffle."  
  
"Aye, and I'm half orc," Eäriel remarked patiently, earning a mild look from the halfling, giving a slight sigh at recognizing Kili wasn't the only one who needed tending to as she reasoned, "you're not that feverish, so I'll hold off on trying to hex the cold out of you until tomorrow."  
  
Perking up at her teasing, Bilbo frowned and asked for curiosity's sake, "you can't really do that... can you?"  
  
"Guess we'll find out tomorrow, won't we?" Eäriel returned with an innocent shrug, having also accepted a cup of tea from Sigrid that she sipped from. Regarding their leader who was intently staring at something outside of the bargeman's home, she frowned a bit and shuffled over to prod him from whatever reverie he was so absorbed in. Regarding the tower that housed a large unloaded crossbow at the top, she gaped and murmured, "a dwarvish Wind-Lance... I didn't think any weapons survived from that day."  
  
Hearing her voice drew Thorin back to reality, and he started to retort when he minded the lent blouse and skirt she wore, the different shades of green seeming to bring out the blue in her eyes and the brown of her shortened hair... Like he and the otherwise-men in their company, she had been given a change of clothes to keep from getting sick, granted the bargeman had lent her clothes that apparently belonged to his late wife.  
  
"You both look like you've seen a ghost," Bilbo commented, having come out of curiosity to see what it was the odd pair were focused on, lifting a brow when Thorin spared him a brief look.  
  
Balin replied as he shuffled over to the odd trio, "they technically have. The last time we saw a weapon like that, a city was on fire."  
  
"It was when Smaug attacked Dale," Eäriel put in, voice soft as the memory dragged her to that very day, continuing in the same tone, "the lord of the city, Girion, rallied his bowmen to launch an assault on that beast... but dragon scales are tough, tougher than any armor crafted, and a Black Arrow fired from a crossbow of that make could slay it."  
  
"Few of those arrows were made, to be fair, and Girion's stock was running low when he made his last stand," Balin finished with a saddened tone in his voice.  
  
Thorin pointed out in a likewise-sad albeit bitter tone, "much would've been different if he had succeeded in slaying that drake."  
  
"Girion and his men at least gave it their all, Thorin, in comparison to him," Eäriel defended with a likewise-bitter edge in her quieted voice, frowning a bit when he scowled at her. She felt her brothers' stare and chose to look away from him at hearing the floorboards give a creak and find Bard had overheard them.  
  
"You talk like if you witnessed it all," Bard commented as he had shuffled over to look on the odd quartet.  
  
"All dwarves know the tale," Thorin defended with a dismissive sniff, earning a nudge from the elleth.  
  
Eäriel shot him a brief look before adding patiently, "my kinsmen and I were there when the dragon came and, because of a cowardly elf lord, I could do nothing but watch."  
  
"You'd know that Girion hit the dragon," Bain, the only son of their host, declared as he had come to his father's side, regarding the elleth's bemused gaze and finishing stubbornly, "loosened a scale at its left side, and one last hit would've killed that beast."  
  
Dwalin chuckled from his place behind the odd pack, commenting, "sounds like a fairytale, lad."  
  
Eäriel regarded the general disbelief of not just Dwalin but Thorin and Balin as well, and took a sip of her tea.

  
  


The twittering of birds roused him.  
  
Sitting up from his makeshift bed, the dwarf looked about at finding his companions were otherwise sound asleep while strewn around the large front room and frowned as the twittering continued to sound from outside their host's home.  
  
Dawn wasn't for another three hours, if he were to wager, so birds going off at such an hour was strange.  
  
Hands forming into fists as the blossoming thought of some new threat having come after them stuck to the fore of his mind, he looked about again and recognized their elleth was missing. _Damn it_ , he thought as he shuffled to his feet and listened to the chirping that led him out the door and to the small balcony at the back of the house.  
  
"Now where'd she get to...?" He grumbled under his breath, regarding that winter certainly was en route as it was chillier this close to the mountain, looking up at the rooftop above and quieting as a small sparrow took off to pivot and fly back towards the Rhovanion.  
  
A brief caw sounded then, causing him to jump a bit, as a raven shortly left the rooftop to flap its wings and dive down onto the balcony, landing as the missing she-elf.  
  
Smiling cheerily at the disgruntled scowl on his brow, Eäriel chuckled and offered, "I didn't think you spooked easy."  
  
Thorin retained his scowl and pretended his ears didn't burn at the embarrassment, folding his arms at his chest as he retorted, "I don't, at least when you behave like an elf instead of an imp." While he was glad she hadn't abandoned them like that incessant voice of doubt in the back of his head deemed, he was never one to appreciate being taken by surprise.  
  
"I didn't think that would bother you so much," remarked Eäriel, voice quieted at his briefly ruffled feathers regarding her shape-changing, as she stepped past him to lean against the wooden railing and look to the mountain. She had thought he wasn't bothered by it, though maybe she had been too naïve to think a dwarf would be so willing to the otherwise-unknown... of course she could just be overthinking it.  
  
Recalling her hesitation to tell him about the part of her that was otherwise frowned upon, and hating that anyone had anything to frown at regarding her person, Thorin rubbed his eyes with a hand and sighed through his nose before he shuffled to join her. "Nothing about you bothers me," he admitted in a likewise-quiet voice, risking a look at her and minding the pink that began to color her cheeks.  
  
Looking up at the stars that winked on them from behind the gaps in the thin clouds, Eäriel shook her head with a slight chuckle and half-wondered, "you're sure you're not saying that because of that kiss?"  
  
Quieting at the memory, Thorin let a smile cause his mustache to twitch upward, looking at her as she shifted a bit so she leaned over the railing and let her hair drape onto her left shoulder. "Somewhat... though I speak mainly out of observation of a woman who is as unique as she is beautiful," he mused, choosing his words so as to not incite a row like he was usually wont to do with her.  
  
Pointed ears perking, Eäriel looked at him and her heart gave a near-painful ache in her chest when seeing the fond look in his blue eyes, feeling her cheeks flush a deeper shade as she echoed softly, "' _beautiful'_ , hm?" Sobering as doubt picked that he said so because of her race, she quieted and looked elsewhere to give a sniff, remarking wryly, "now I _know_ you're bewitched, if you say I'm beautiful because of what I am..."  
  
"It's not because of that!" Hissed the king, shooting a brief glance at the sleeping home behind them, as he looked at the sudden tension in her jaw before his eyes fell on the mountain that was just out of his reach.  
  
It was quiet between them for the longest moment he had ever imagined, before he moved closer to reach and cup her cheek that had been struck. Both sets of blue eyes met, one patient and the other guarded, as he stated in a likewise-patient tone, "beauty isn't restricted to just appearance. What you say and do, that's what is beautiful." Truth be told it made her more beautiful than any gem beneath the earth... even the Arkenstone.  
  
Giving a silent gulp as she listened to him, the she-elf felt a shiver roll down her spine as his calloused fingers stroked the once-reddened skin of her cheek, and she lifted a hand to keep his there. "Thank you for not laughing, earlier, when I fell," she said quietly, meeting his gaze and watching the gears in his brain backtrack to their earlier incident with the guards before his mustache twitched and they both shared a quiet chuckle.

  
  


“Erm, Eäriel?”  
  
“Mm?”  
  
“Are you sure you want to spend the rest of your money on helping Bard?”  
  
Blinking once at his somewhat-muffled voice, the elf looked at her shopping companion to see the bags he carried were obstructing him from view and, to her amusement, were stacked about a head taller than the poor halfling.  
  
She chuckled quietly and stopped to lift some of the heavier bags from his arms, answering when she saw his face, “’s the least I can do for our having eaten his household out of food for the last few days. Never mind that I couldn’t find what I was looking for in this market.” Hoisting the bag of vegetables he had picked onto her shoulder, she resumed leading the way back to their temporary shelter.  
  
Bilbo followed, finding it easier to keep up as he was left carrying the lighter bags, as she wove in and about the small walkways leading back to Bard’s. Curiosity filled his voice as he asked, “what were you looking for, then?”  
  
He had at first looked forward to exploring a marketplace of men though, when he and the elf received odd looks and plenty stares as the onlookers believed they hadn’t noticed, his hopes quickly dissipated... he had hoped the world of the Big People would be an exciting experience but all he got was a somber resemblance to the market in the Shire.  
  
“Athelas... Kingsfoil. It’s an herb that grows wild near the Bruinen, and I had hoped to find some here, but the market isn't as grand as it used to be.” Eäriel answered thoughtfully, frowning as she thought of Kili and his leg that wasn't healing up like she had half-hoped it would… truthfully, she was still at a loss on how to break the news to Thorin.  
  
Bilbo regarded that they were closer to Bard's house and he wondered aloud, _“’Kingsfoil_ ’… it’s a weed, though. Why would a weed be so useful?”  
  
Piercing eyes sweeping the area to find the lack of life around them, she looked to him and explained, “it heals wounds imbued with Morgul poison… Kili took that orc's arrow that was meant for me, at the river,” she watched horror slowly fill his brown eyes and looked to the wrap-around staircase of Bard's house as they came to a stop at reaching the bottom step.  
  
“But h-he… Kili can’t die. He doesn’t deserve it!” Bilbo said in realization, unsure on what Thorin would do if he was aware of this… catching the lingering guilt in her eyes, he gripped the strap of the bag he carried as he asked quietly, “isn’t there any other way, for you to save him?”  
  
“If there were, I'd use it, believe you me,” Eäriel vowed before admitting softly, “I have lost enough in my life, Bilbo… but I can’t let that happen this time, not to Kili, or you… or Thorin.” She then grew quiet and started up the stairs with Bilbo following not far behind. 

  
  


Fili watched his uncle pace with mild confusion. Scarcely did he ever see him pace, even when he was little, so to see such now when Durin’s Day was about a week away was odd, but not unexpected.  
  
“What’s he pacing for?” Bilbo wondered quietly as he found a seat with the blonde given they were some of the few to linger around the lunch table.  
  
Their odd party had stayed in Bard's home for the better half of a week and, even though his family had been nothing short of kind to them, Bilbo sensed that the dwarves were starting to get restless as they had yet to meet with the Master... Thorin especially.  
  
“Dunno... personally, I think he learned it from Eäri. When she's got a lot on her mind, she paces, too,” Kili supplied as he hobbled to sit down with his brother.  
  
Fili nodded, smiling wryly as he looked to the named elleth helping Bard’s daughters with the dishes and seeming to enjoy the female company, looking at his brother and the halfling before musing, “methinks it’s a give and take, really… one of them gets frustrated, and the other does the same.”  
  
“If you mean to say that they fancy each other, it's rather obvious at this point,” Elrohir commented quietly as he and Elladan had broken away from talking with Dori and Nori, smiling when the odd trio started a bit before looking at their eavesdropping selves.  
  
Elladan nodded wisely and said, "never mind we heard wind you two have a bet going on about when they finally profess their love... or snog. Either way, we're in."  
  
Kili glanced at his uncle and, making a note to clock Nori about letting that tidbit slip, smiled cheerily at the twins as he extended a hand to shake Elladan's, saying, “good! I think this just got _more_ interesting if we've got you two involved…”  
  
“ **What** are you lot betting on?” Thorin demanded then, making the youngest freeze before the odd pack simultaneously looked to him as his pacing had stopped, his arms crossing at his chest with a suspicious scowl on his bearded face.  
  
“O-oh good afternoon, Uncle!” Fili recovered first, smiling brightly as he lied in the same tone, “s’ just we were including Bilbo on a bet that we dwarves could outdrink Eäriel's brothers!”  
  
“Mister Boggins didn't believe it, for a minute, so we thought we'd come up with a contest!” Kili put in as he lightly slapped the named hobbit on the back.  
  
Thorin’s brow twitched. He knew well enough when his nephews lied to him, especially as he caught the flash of guilt in their eyes, and he pitied Bilbo for being the scapegoat... making a note to question them later, he gave a short exhale and pointed out to the odd pack, “I feel our stay is to be cut short. We have yet to meet with the Master and, frankly, the more time we waste, the sooner Durin’s Day will come. We need to speed things up.”  
  
Eäriel spared a smile at the sisters as she left the kitchen to catch what Thorin was saying. Glancing briefly at Kili before she gave a slight sigh, she asked, “how exactly do you intend on that? We can’t just go waltzing out in broad daylight to demand that the Master help us…” trailing off at the sudden spark in his eye, she scowled and added quickly, “no… don’t even think about it...! Thorin!”  
  
“We've come this far, Eäriel, why not? You said it yourself, we need a meet with him if we're to make it before the last light of Durin's Day…” Thorin reasoned, watching the brief uncertainty in her eyes falter, and he stepped up to her to ask in a quieted tone, “do you trust me?”  
  
Eäriel quieted even as the hairs at her neck prickled when feeling the others' eyes on them, and she replied in the same tone, “you know I do…” Watching his eyes soften caused a smile to cross her lips, and she looked away with reluctance to regard the halfling, and her brothers, gaze settling on the lattermost as she reasoned, “if you wish to stay and wait for Bard, I won't stop you... either of you. I'm staying with the dwarves. I've gotten by on my own this far, and we're so close to Erebor...”  
  
“You really think we came just to pop in and have tea with you in Laketown?" Elladan demanded first, earning a surprised look from her.  
  
Elrohir scoffed and added stubbornly, “we're not leaving you, Eäriel! Though you're not our blood, you're still our sister, and neither 'Dan or I am about to leave you to face that dragon alone.”  
  
Quieting as she regarded their unwavering loyalty that she showed enough times with the dwarves, Eäriel allowed a defeated smile and puffed, chiding them both, "I... you're both too stubborn for your own good." She chuckled when Elladan tousled her hair.  
  
The odd party then left the bargeman's house. When the lone woman lingered behind, the king urged his companions follow the twins' lead and stopped to wait on her. He considered urging her along but paused at overhearing her apologize to the children, and he felt a brief pang of guilt before perking up when she patted Bain's shoulder and then descended the steps to find him waiting.  
  
Blue met blue and he surprised her by offering his hand.  
  
Cheeks and ears turning rosy at his open affection, the elleth smiled for him and gave her smaller hand to his gentle grip to silently affirm she wanted to stay at his side for however long that would be.  
  
The odd party proceeded to make their way onto the main streets of Laketown, and it wasn't long until they had garnered a crowd of onlookers. Most eyes went to the dwarves, given their obvious appearance, but the trio of elves earned a few gawking looks, and even the halfling gained one or two. Less than minutes passed before the odd party were swarmed upon by the town's guards.  
  
The tall redhead captain, Braga, glared from the dwarves to the halfling and lastly to the elves as he demanded, "where exactly do you lot think you're going?"  
  
"We need to speak with the Master of this town," Thorin answered first, gauging the taller man's glare with just as guarded a scowl. He heard her softer footsteps shuffle to stand at his back.  
  
"Not anymore you're not. You're all under arrest for trespassing without the Master's knowledge..." Braga stated as his men started to usher the odd party away, pausing as he looked to the lone woman and finding he had seen her recently. "You! Elf-witch, you're the one who assaulted..." he declared, reaching to grab her by the front of her jerkin only for her left hand to catch his wrist in time as a sword's silver tip appeared ready to stick him between the eyes.  
  
"Touch a hair on her head and you will regret it," Elrohir vowed lowly, having moved to threaten the guard captain while Elladan flanked their sister's right side.  
  
_"Enough_." Eäriel ordered, having pushed past Elrohir and Thorin to address Braga as she released his wrist and stated calmly in common tongue, "amusing as it'd be if you lot tried to take us to your little jail for the night, that's _not_ why we're here. Alfrid knows we have been in town for the last week, so please, take us to see the Master."  
  
Regarding the death glare that seemed to infect the dwarves as well as her fellow elves, Braga motioned his men to back off from the odd party. "Say no more, then... we will escort you," he stated flatly, his scathing look lingering on the lone woman, before he turned to lead them to the center of town with his guards spread out to flank both sides. They were halted once coming upon a grandiose house and the odd party stood in a half-moon formation around Braga with the elleth and dwarf king just behind him.  
  
A fresh snowfall began once everyone was situated and the crowd had gathered around them, the first snowfall of winter if she were to wager, and it was mere moments later when the front doors of the house were pulled open for the Master to step out onto the front stoop.  
  
The Master was a tall redhead with beady eyes donned in a luxurious fur coat, and Eäriel wrinkled her nose at the sight of him as she could swear he resembled the late Great Goblin... sharp eyes catching a black-clad worm slinking out from the warmth of the house, she sobered at recognizing Alfrid's pasty face as he looked to their odd party before his dark eyes nearly bulged in dread at finding her present.  
  
"Would someone care to explain what's going on?" Demanded the Master, yanking the she-elf from her scathing staredown with his adviser, indirectly causing the murmuring crowd to quiet down.  
  
Briefly sending a glare at the dwarves, Braga answered first, "we caught them struttin' around the market, they said they wanted to have an audience with you, sir."  
  
"Noone gets through the tollgate without my knowing," the Master reasoned in disbelief.  
  
"Don't blame yourself for it," called Eäriel, earning his attention as she shuffled a bit to stand next to Braga and continue coolly, "surely, good sir, I imagine if you ask dear Alfrid then he'll confirm that our company has been here for the last week. We had wished to gain an audience with you, but apparently our plight fell on deaf ears." For a moment she was glad her years in the Woodland Realm left her relatively-impervious to selfish rulers.  
  
" **Lies** , that's what she's spoutin', sire, complete lies!" Alfrid stated quickly, pointing at the bemused woman, and added, "I've never seen that lot of troublemaking brutes before in my life...!"  
  
Dwalin growled out then, "hold your tongue! You don't realize who you're talkin' about, boy." He earned a collective glance from the elves and gestured to his king who had shuffled to stand with the elleth, stating proudly, "this is no lying troublemaker... this is _Thorin_ , son of Thráin, son of Thrór!"  
  
Placing a hand on his friend's shoulder in thanks, Thorin proclaimed, "we are the dwarves of Erebor, and have come to take back our homeland."  
  
A wave of awed murmurs echoed across the crowd of townsfolk, and the Master looked about with a brief and nervous flick of his eyes as he was at a loss for how to respond towards the revelation and feared he would be put to death for insulting dwarven royalty. The trio of elves shared a glance at watching him even as the lone elleth looked to the shocked people with a slight frown.  
  
"... great days of old! Fleets of boats stood docked at harbor, filled with silks and riches... this was no forsaken village on the lake. This was the center of all northern trade," rumbled the dwarf king, and he shot a brief glance at her to regard the likewise smile she returned as her hand gripped his shoulder, before he continued, "I'd bring back those days, to relight the forges and send wealth flowing again from the halls of Erebor!"  
  
A loud cheer erupted from the onlookers, excited about the spark of hope the dwarves were promising, and the she-elf felt the hairs at her nape prickle at having such a prospect thrown onto her shoulders...  
  
" **Death**!" Cried a voice from the back of the crowd, stilling most of them as the familiar bargeman strode his way to the front, his dark eyes locked on the king as he added firmly, "that's what you will bring upon our town. **Dragonfire** and **ruin**! You wake that beast and we'll all be destroyed." He briefly looked away from the dwarf to the she-elf who shuffled a bit to shield the other.  
  
Returning the glare, Thorin looked away to state, "listen to that naysayer if you wish, but I promise that if we succeed, **all** will share in the spoils. There'll be enough gold to rebuild Esgaroth tenfold!" He gave a grand gesture as the villagers erupted into a near-deafening cheer in response.  
  
"Explain why we should heed your word!" Alfrid called then, causing the crowd to quiet down for a moment, as he glared at the king and added, "we don't know a thing about you... who's gonna vouch for _your_ character, then?"  
  
The dwarves' eyes swept the crowd before resting on their leader with concern, and the elf siblings traded another look between themselves. The lone elleth started to speak when a familiar small voice beat her to it, earning a surprised look from their ragtag party.  
  
"I will!" Bilbo Baggins stated as he raised a hand, looking to the otherwise-unconvinced Master and continuing clearly, "I'll speak for him. I've traveled with these dwarves, from a long ways and through many dangers, and Thorin Oakenshield has proven time and time again to keep his word. I don't see how this should be any different." He earned a relieved and thankful look from the named dwarf.  
  
Eäriel regarded the Master's hesitation that wasn't gone amiss by the townsfolk, and she stated, "if you doubt him still, then take the word of an elf! I am Eäriel and these are my brothers, Elrohir and Elladan, children of the Lord of Rivendell. I've also traveled and fought alongside these dwarves, found them to be the greatest friends one could hope for, and if this noble king gives his word then I'm sure that he will keep it. By the Valar's might, I believe in Thorin Oakenshield."  
  
Thorin did little to fight the grin that seized hold of his face as he listened to her, and he had half a right mind to kiss her right then and there...  
  
"All of you listen to me, please," Bard addressed the crowd that had gotten noisy in approval of the elleth's testimony, demanding of his people, "have you forgotten Dale, those who died in the firestorm! And for what, the ambition of a Mountain King so blinded by his own greed?" At the last bit he turned another glare at Thorin.  
  
The Master's voice cut into the growing pocket of tension as he reminded, "none of us here should be so quick to point the finger... isn't that right, _Bard?_ Lest we forget that the fault truly lies on Girion, Lord of Dale, _your forefather,_ for not slaying that drake!"  
  
" _That explains the resemblance_ ," Elladan muttered to his twin, earning an agreeing nod, as the both of them regarded the shocked looks of their sister and her companions that locked on Bard.  
  
Ignoring Alfrid's mocking, Bard took a step closer to Thorin only to be blocked by Eäriel, the flash of guilt from before lingering in his eyes that looked from her hurt and guarded gaze to land on her king as he stated quietly to the lattermost, "you have **no**. **right** , none whatsoever, to enter that mountain!"  
  
Thorin held his bitter stare and gave a sniff before retorting with finality, "I have the **only** right." He turned about to look to the Master and ask, "as Master of the men of the Lake, I ask if you will see the prophecy fulfilled... if you will share in the wealth of our people?"  
  
A near-deafening hush befell the town as the Master looked between the odd party to Bard and then to the onlookers, the company all-but holding their breath when Thorin asked again, before his beady brown eyes settled on the dwarf king. "I say to you... **welcome**! Welcome, and thrice welcome, King Under the Mountain!" He proclaimed as he gestured to the named dwarf, causing his people to erupt into an excited applause.  
  
Most of the company gave exhales of relief while the rest cheered along, the elf twins amongst them. The she-elf beamed as their elation was infectious, and she looked to her king with pride even as her misgivings about their new ' _business partner'_ and the mountain of prospects lingered in her mind.

  
  


Giving a shallow sigh as she twisted a bit to survey the gifted attire, she looked at her reflection in the tall mirror and grumped.  
  
Once the bargain had been set aside to be discussed at a later time, the Master had insisted their odd party be welcomed by the townsfolk at a grand feast in his home, even going so far as to put them up at the local inn for the next few days. It wasn't extravagant by any means, but it was a warm place to rest until their departure, so for the sake of the company she didn't complain.  
  
Gods knew five days was too long of a stay, in her book, and unfortunately she believed the Master was of like mind.  
  
A knock sounded on her door, and Eäriel replied over her shoulder, "if it's another damned dress that's frillier than this one, I'm going to gut someone!" The maids that had brought the one she was required to wear, Anne and Elsa, had done her hair after insisting she wear a dress rather than the tunic and jerkin she was comfortable in.  
  
"I would think you'd wish to be on your best behavior," hummed a familiar voice, causing her to jump a bit and turn to see Thorin leaning his hip against the opened door. He had chuckled to himself before letting himself in, knowing by her threat that she had been forced to look feminine again.  
  
Eäriel had been given a dress that was royal blue in color, the sleeves hanging off her shoulder a bit to cover her arms down to her fingers, and her shortened tresses were drawn from her fair face into a braided bun that sat at her nape... and once again, Thorin was left to wonder how she had bewitched him so.  
  
Giving a soft snort at his taunt, Eäriel turned to fully face him and drawl back, "now _what_ , exactly, makes you think I know how to act like a proper lady?"  
  
She gave a brief once-over of his attire, from his coat and tunic that were the same shade of navy blue to his black trousers and cleaned boots, lastly settling on his mane of dark hair that had been combed back to frame his bearded face in a way that made her heart ache... not that he never looked the part, but in this moment he looked like a proper king to her.  
  
He smirked fondly even as his own heart ached for a moment at the warmth in her eyes that was solely meant for him, and he mused, "I'd think you were much too untamable and clever to be a mere lady." Regarding the soft grin that took its place on her lips, he cocked a brow and added, "though that doesn't matter to me, as I wish to know if you'd accompany me to the feast."  
  
"You're the king, love, you can walk there yourself," Eäriel reminded as she stepped away to take the gray cloak that accompanied the dress from its place on the nearby chair, returning the raised eyebrow even though there was an amused twinkle in her gaze as she stepped up to him.  
  
Regarding the familiar playfulness in her words, Thorin felt heat color his cheeks before he gave her a look that caused the earlier grin to return, and he remarked patiently, "extremely hilarious. Are you coming with me or do you wish to stay here and starve?"  
  
"I have a choice, now?" Asked the elleth with innocence, and at his brief grunt as the pink in his cheeks deepened while he looked away, she laughed quietly before answering, "it would be an honor."  
  
Lighting up a bit at her acceptance, he gestured to the hall with a hand and arched a brow, earning a chuckle before she was first to head down the hall and left him to close the door before following her leave. 


	13. ophelia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> exeunt _"Laketown Arc"_  
> 

Once the odd troop were together again after meeting in the spacious front room of the inn, and after the king accompanied by his elleth were ogled at by their companions, they exited into the chilled night air to be escorted to the Master's house.  
  
Looking about at the large dining hall that was lit in a cozy manner and had long tables where the townsfolk were already seated, Eäriel regarded the scene with some measure of awe.  
  
She would admit the niggling urge to head right for the mountain lingered like a bad headcold, as she recalled the last time she felt as such was in the Woodland Realm where not-so-polite barbs were traded between she and the supposed king during a feast. It had taken his son to quietly plead with her to stand down, honestly, and she had retired to her quarters in a huff.  
  
"Welcome, Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain!" The Master greeted, drawing her from her thoughts, as he stood from his grand chair at a long table towards the back of the hall that had enough seats for the odd company's numbers.  
  
Thorin returned before giving a thankful nod, "we thank you, Master of Laketown, for showing us such kindness when noone else would." He earned a brief look from his elleth who offered a slight curtsy to their host.  
  
Eäriel's dislike for their host and the anxiety regarding their quest's success that sat itself in the fore of her mind was shoved aside, for however long that would be, as she partook in eating with her companions and smiled as the dwarves were content with the feast.  
  
When the night began to draw late, she minded the Master who called for the tables in the middle of the room to be moved so people could dance. Smiling again as some of her companions rose to the invitation and took a respective village girl as their dance partner, she regarded the few men (five at least) that came to ask for a dance with her and politely refused three of them... the last two skulked away after being given an intimidating look from the dwarves and her brothers that lingered at the table.  
  
"You'd think you were the last woman around," Elladan mused to her as he watched a bubbly blonde whisk his twin onto the dance floor.  
  
Eäriel puffed as she straightened to refill both his mug and hers from the keg to the side of their table, replying over her shoulder, "the girls here wouldn't be offended much by your two left feet, dear brother!" Refilling his mug and proceeding to do the same for hers as she heard her sibling blow a raspberry, she looked back at the main table to see Thorin speaking with the Master about something, and she frowned a bit before retreating to the table.  
  
"You make blue look best." A coarse voice said as she had placed Elladan's mug before him, causing her to stiffen and she regarded the glance from the named ellon. Bard stood there with his hands at his back when she turned to him, and he smiled slightly as he added, "milady."  
  
Eäriel forced a polite smile in return and briefly minded that he had spruced himself up rather well for the feast, as she said, "thank you... you cleaned up rather well, too. Is there something you wish to ask me?"  
  
Regarding the curious and guarded look he was getting from her brother, and indirectly the few dwarves nearby, Bard offered his hand as he answered in the same polite tone, "yes, actually... would the Lady allow me a dance, even though she has turned other offers away all night?"  
  
"She would," Eäriel obliged with a soft puff at his observation, leaving her mug with Elladan and giving him her hand as both bargeman and elleth joined the other couples as the music continued to thrum throughout the house.  
  
The odd pair emulated how the other couples danced to the tune that was meant to sound romantic, and it was awkwardly quiet between them before she broke it.  
  
"You could've said something, you know... about your forefather." Eäriel mused quietly, regarding the amber glow of the lights that winked off the top buttons of his coat.  
  
Bard looked away from where he could see Bain keeping watch of Tilda to look at his partner and the sad hint in her voice, replying, "you never asked, to be fair... I imagine you're still upset about it."  
  
Eäriel puffed again and admitted, "I've got worse things to be upset about... but you didn't clamber up to a table-full of dwarves just to ask me for a dance, did you?" She lifted her head a bit to look at him.  
  
Jaw tensing a degree as blue caught brown, the bowman scoffed under his breath and wryly wondered, "on top of being an esteemed elf-lord's daughter, do you also have the ability to foresee things?"  
  
"It's called intuition, ask any woman, mortal or elf... I must apologize if you decided to try and woo me, I'm not interested..." remarked the she-elf, giving a sniff at his mention of her title she often denied beyond Rivendell.  
  
"Your quest... Thorin's quest." Bard quietly cut in, feeling her stiffen as the tune slowly began to draw to an end, continuing at her raised brow to urge so, "I want you to not go through with it... you know well what I meant, earlier, that the dragon will wreak havoc should it be disturbed."  
  
Hairs at her nape prickling as Eäriel felt a certain stare digging into her skull, she gave a disbelieving puff at Bard's words before replying in the same quieted tone, "what makes you believe I have a say? Thorin is the one in charge, if you recall."  
  
"But you **do** have a say," retorted the bargeman, scowling a bit when her piercing eyes shifted to meet his gaze, and he stated, "it's no secret that he's mad about you, Eäriel. Asking him to hold off on reaching the mountain, to keep from awakening Smaug, it's not the worst thing in the world..." He heard the tune wind down to its last note.  
  
" **No** ," snapped the elleth, the anxiety of expectation and her brief hurt with his withholding information causing her voice to take a hardened edge, as she scowled at him and added in a quieted tone, "you don't have the damnedest clue what you're asking of me, Bard. I can't just... I'm sorry, but I can't..."  
  
"May I?" A familiar low-timbre voice cut in, then, causing the odd pair to break apart. He regarded the odd mistiness in her eyes that didn't meet his and shot an accusatory glare at the bargeman.  
  
"But of course, my lord," the taller man obliged stiffly, and he shot a brief look at the quieted elf before he gave a respectful bob of the head to the dwarf and left them.  
  
Thorin glared after him and gave a scoff, looking to his elleth as his voice softened, asking, "did he upset you?"  
  
"No, I-um, I'm just tired, that's all." Eäriel replied quietly, clearing her throat and offering a smile to him. She ducked slightly to kiss his cheek, stalling when he cupped her cheek in return, blue meeting blue as she began in the same tone, "Thorin..."  
  
"If you're that tired, you should rest... I doubt this party will be any more lively," Thorin reasoned with a wry smirk, his softness for her warring with the urge to demand her to tell him everything Bard spoke to her of until the former won, his fingers gentle as he brushed a loose strand of brown from hiding her right ear.  
  
Eyes softened at his words, Eäriel nodded and said in the same tone, "don't let the boys keep you out all night." She reluctantly lowered his hand only to kiss the space between his eyes, stepping away to retrieve her cloak.

  
  


Lifting the towel from his head as the steam seemed to be doing wonders for his clogged nose that was starting to become less clogged, Bilbo regarded the quieted Eäriel who sat at his far left with a whetstone and one of her daggers in hand. "You're quite sure you're all right, after last night?" He asked for sanity's sake.  
  
Eäriel had been first in the kitchen when he stumbled his way from a warm bed in, a half-hour ago, and she had insisted on the steaming treatment when he sounded congested as he gave a _'morning_ '. She always awoke early, Bilbo thought, but he imagined that was partly due to elves not needing as much sleep as dwarves or hobbits... but her otherwise quieted disposition was something he didn't enjoy witnessing.  
  
"I've got a slight headache from all that ale, but I'll manage," Eäriel replied as she admired the lack of scratches on her favored blades, looking over at him and minding that his nose didn't look as red as before, reasoning patiently, "it's best you get that fixed now, you know, before we have to leave in a few days." She wasn't the best at healing spells, in comparison to Arwen, but she knew enough of herbs and remedies to know how to cure most issues.  
  
Bilbo frowned a bit at her lie, knowing moreso by hearsay that elves could hold their own worth about a keg of ale, and he observed, "your brothers, they didn't really care for Bard asking you to dance." Elladan had been about ready to break the dance up himself, but was stopped when Thorin beat him to it... it was no mistake that she was still upset about that, though he didn't wish to badger her for want of a quiet morning.  
  
Eäriel gave a soft snort at that and mused, "they'd have jumped in if it were my sister Arwen instead. Uncle rarely lets her venture far from Rivendell, but they're almost as bad as him... they already lost their mother, so the twins take care to keep her out of harm's way, moreso than they do me."  
  
"And yet they're here with you, about to join us in stealing from a dragon," Bilbo half-guessed, smiling wryly at imagining the four elves in younger days.  
  
Eäriel nodded a bit and her eyes softened as she traced a finger along a particular scratch on her whetstone, offering, "we don't have the same mother and they're younger than me by a few years, but the twins have never been so docile to heed all of their father's wishes... suppose that's why I grew so fond of Fili and Kili, in the beginning, because they were so much alike."

  
  


Kili pouted sorely and said, "c'mon, Eäri, that's not fair! I was the one who asked to spar with you back in Beorn's yard..."  
  
"Well that was before you got a bum leg," calmly replied Eäriel, shrugging off the strap for her long knives and flexing her grip on their handles.  
  
Fili coughed to cover up a laugh at his brother's sulking face, offering in the same calm tone, "just stay there and watch for now, Kee. When your leg's better, you two can go at it."  
  
Given the inn they were staying at had a closed-in courtyard, the dwarves had taken to occupying it with weapons from the armory and sparred with each other. The twins partook in the training, too, sparring with either Glóin or Nori. Even Bilbo got in on some practice, once his cold was gone, though the poor halfling was left to spar with Dwalin through most of his session.  
  
Thorin paused in his personal quest to ruffle his benched nephew's dark hair as they both watched Fili and Eäriel trade blows with their respective weapons, earning a miffed grunt from Kili at his gesture. He smiled wryly at his sulking heir before leaving the pillar the other sat at, coming to a halt when he found the twins in the lone alcove off the side of the courtyard.  
  
"Everything all right, then, Thorin?" Elrohir asked as he glanced up at the named dwarf between polishing his sword. He and Elladan had shared a brief look when hearing the mentioned party coming over to them, neither ellon sure on what it is they had done or what was afoot.  
  
"Yes, everything's fine, actually," answered the dwarf, and he risked a brief glance back at where his older nephew was locked in a brief standstill with the she-elf, clearing his throat as he added, "I, well, this is rather peculiar even for me, but I want to ask you two something."  
  
Elladan cocked a brow at the other's slight fumbling, quelling a smirk from his lips as he sensed _that_ was due to their dear sister, nodding a bit and urging, "we're listening."  
  
"I seem to be... stepping in it, a bit of a lot, with someone. Someone I happen to care deeply for..." Thorin began, feeling his ears burn as he internally kicked himself for having gotten as far as he did, finishing with a shallow exhale, "I want to tell this person that I love them... in elvish. Will you help me?"  
  
The twins shared another look, glad the otherwise-reputed tosspot of a dwarf was finally ponying up, before one of the two glanced out at the courtyard to see their sister laughing with the princes about something... the younger twin beamed and said lightly, "it'd be our pleasure, Master Oakenshield."  
  
Allowing himself a sigh of relief, the dwarf king smiled in spite of himself and nodded back, replying, "thank you, both of you."  
  
Eäriel certainly knew how to pick a love interest.

  
  


The sun was nearly high in the afternoon sky.  
  
The company's second-to-last day of their stay at the inn was passing by without much disturbance, and the dwarves had taken to picking up their sparring sessions once lunch was finished.  
  
Fastening the belt of her sword at her waist, the elleth looked up to regard their leader and his nephew's round came to an end, and she tossed a handkerchief to the older dwarf who caught it with ease. "Me next," she said calmly.  
  
Stalling at her offer, the king lowered the half-dampened handkerchief from scrubbing his face of sweat and locked stares with her to find curiosity in her eyes. "You were supposed to be patching up Kili's leg," he reminded.  
  
"I just redressed it for him, he's in the library with the twins." Eäriel replied, cocking a brow at his hesitation and smirking, wondering lightly, "you and I haven't sparred since... it's been years, hasn't it?"  
  
Thorin felt his brow twitch at her bemusement, shrugging the sword in hand onto his shoulder as he gave a slight sigh and remarked, "yes, but just because you're trying to goad me into it doesn't mean I'm going to draw..." he heard the sword leave its scabbard before she lashed out, causing him to block in time, the locked blades voicing a combined complaint.  
  
"I thought it was chivalric to answer a lady's invitation to spar," drawled the elleth as both sets of blue eyes held to each other, and she let him shove her off before wondering, "honestly, love, we're this close to the mountain and you've forgotten your manners, didn't you?"  
  
He allowed a rueful smile at her taunts and watched her lithe form sink into a stance, puffing and drawling back, "I didn't think elves got so restless." He rushed her with a sharp swing of his sword, being caught with ease and then shoved away, feinting to the left and taking another swing at her legs.  
  
Those who had been sparring nearby stopped to watch the couple, and bets started to sprout as the blows were traded back and forth. It was a proper struggle between the audience, truthfully, as half bet on a victory for Thorin while the other half bet the same for Eäriel. Bilbo took to voting for Eäriel, mostly out of solidarity for being the second misfit of their troop, while Elladan and Elrohir voted on Thorin.  
  
Ducking another lunge for his head, Thorin rushed her only for his elleth to feint to the right and swing Hathelas down on his left arm, missing as he swerved out of the way. Dropping back a bit to regain his breath as she was doing the same, he brought up his sword to block her downward strike, having felt since the spar began that she channeled whatever remaining frustrations from the last few days into her blows... "You never told me what it was the bargeman asked of you," he declared quietly, feeling her stiffen in their locked state.  
  
Blinking once before sobering albeit bitterly at his words, Eäriel scoffed and retorted stiffly, "what's there to talk about? He was just being rude, though I think the ale might've had something to do with that." Why now? When she was actually having fun for the first time in a while, why?  
  
"That's not the truth and you know it!" Snapped the king, and he shoved her off with a well-placed foot in her belly, watching her double back to regain her bearings for a moment, as he continued in a curbed tone, "he told you something that clearly upset you, Eäriel, and I want to know."  
  
Bristling even as she flexed her grip on Hathelas, the she-elf rushed him again and swerved to the left when he lashed out, twisting on her heel to strike at his open back with a snarl before his sword caught hers, causing the blades to lock for the umpteenth time. "Dreadfully sorry, your Highness, but you don't **get** to know. It's not your business...!" She growled, blue clashing with blue.  
  
Quieting for a moment at the guarded look in her eyes that did little to hide her pain and anxiety, he bristled in return and persisted, "I **do** have a right to know, because you... something's been on your mind of late, and you're not yourself!" He felt her stiffen again and watched her eyes burn like cold fire.  
  
"I..." hating that he could see right through her, no matter how many walls she stacked, and that he chose to rain on her proverbial party, she shoved him away with force so his sword went flying. Lowering Hathelas even as her grip on its handle trembled a bit, she glared at him as he had dropped back a bit to retrieve his weapon, stating with finality when their eyes met, "whatever ails me **isn't** your bloody business, Thorin son of Thráin, and I... I forfeit."  
  
Their audience watched as she sheathed the relic and brushed back strands that had escaped her braid before leaving the courtyard, shifting their general focus back to the victor who could only watch her put further distance between them. 

  
  


"You're quite sure?"  
  
The small thrush nodded his head, seeming sad about the news he had to deliver. He chirped when her gaze dropped to the floorboards in the same manner.  
  
"I know, little one, but I'm unsure when I should tell him... he's not as sweet as you are, though I suppose I haven't given him much room to be, of late. It's a long story..." she admitted quietly, smiling on the bird in her palm before shuffling away from leaning against the wall to offer him to the oncoming night, adding, "you've done well, now go rest. I'll call for you if I need you, yeah?"  
  
The thrush nodded again and gave a slight flap of his wings before taking off into the sky, flying back towards the woods and leaving her alone in the growing night.  
  
"Ironic that you'd prefer to talk to a messenger bird," the voice of her current source of soreness observed, causing her to stiffen a bit.  
  
Internally cursing his persistence, the she-elf turned to find him having abandoned his place in the shadow of the righthand wall to amble up to her. "They're very good listeners, actually... they also don't badger me, in comparison to _some_ pigheaded men," she defended with a sniff, folding her arms at her chest.  
  
Mustache twitching upward at her catty tone, the dwarf mirrored her and mused, "'suppose I deserve that. What, exactly, was all that for earlier?" He tilted his head a bit and looked on her.  
  
"I don't have to answer to you, Master dwarf..." she reminded coolly, starting to stride past him to head for the kitchen and make some tea for herself, stalling when his hand caught the fabric of her tunic and his fingers fisted in their grip.  
  
Knowing she was glaring even though she refused to look at him, his shoulders heaved a half-weary sigh as he requested quietly, "Eäriel, please."  
  
Quieting again at finding he really **did** care for her if he was pleading for her to let her guard down, the elleth rubbed a hand over her face and gave a soft puff. "Bard, he asked for me to demand you not go through with opening the door to the mountain... he fears Smaug will rain fire upon Laketown if we so much as slip up," she started in a likewise-soft tone, feeling him release the back of her beige tunic, minding that the proverbial weight on her shoulders began to lift just by talking about it.  
  
"And he thought you could manipulate me, to give up on taking back Erebor... but you can't, can you?" half-guessed the king, seeing her nod at that and hearing her give a wry scoff seconds later.  
  
"Gods know I can't... I can't stand in the way of your people getting their home back. It's not in me," she mused bitterly, looking to the stars above that winked at them, allowing a mirthless smile.  
  
Glad that she at last admitted what had been bothering her for the last few days, Thorin paused at sensing she hadn't said everything that needed to be said, just yet... "there's something else, isn't there?" he asked quietly.  
  
Finding with irony that his knack for seeing right through her wasn't as irritating as it originally was, Eäriel turned to face him and suddenly ask, "have you ever doubted yourself?"  
  
He was born a prince, she knew, and his being called to lead his people after both his father and grandfather were taken away surely left him with doubt regarding his ability to lead... with further irony that was rather comforting, she realized they had more in common than either of them first thought.  
  
Quieting as he paused to think on his answer, Thorin regarded the irony of her new self-doubt with a wry twitch of his mustache.  
  
"Many times, actually... most times were when we were settling down in Ered Luin, whether I could be wise enough to lead everyone, to take care of them and ensure that they would be able to have a good life, even though our home was lost to us," he admitted, low voice thoughtful, before he looked at her from beneath his brow and reasoned for her sake, "you can't tell me you're putting your combat skills into question, now of all times. You're the fiercest she-elf I've known, if not half-wild."  
  
"No, 'course not," remarked Eäriel, and her cheeks warmed at being caught in his stormy stare, before she gave a soft sigh and continued, "I... it terrifies me, to have so much expectation thrown onto my shoulders... it's so damn heavy. I've never liked it, the expectation, because I'm afraid to fail. Failing one or two people is one thing, but a whole town-full of people? I can't handle it, and the burden is greater when I consider the company, and you..." she trailed off and forced herself to look away, the pink in her cheeks deepening a degree when his larger hand found both of hers, and she dropped her gaze to their hands.  
  
Giving a slight shake of his head, Thorin chuckled at the state of things and mused in a softened voice, "then it's good that you're in a company of dwarves... you don't have to carry that burden alone, I won't allow it, not so long as I breathe." Feeling her gaze soften without having to look, he pretended to ignore the heat that began to color his cheeks as he continued, "there's something I wish to tell you, something I haven't told to anyone before, and I doubt I can keep it to myself for much longer. Eäriel, I..."  
  
_" **Eäriel**!_"  
  
Both dwarf and elf jumped at the call, and the named elleth broke away first to rush inside at recognizing the voice to belong to Elrohir, with the dwarf not far behind. The odd couple hurried past the kitchen and front room to the library, skidding to a halt at finding the twins, Fili, and the others surrounding Kili who was writhing and giving out cries in pain as he had fallen to the floor.  
  
"Kili!" Thorin started to rush to his side but was stopped by Eäriel who broke past her companions to drop to her knees at his nephew's side, her hand touching his clammy forehead as worry darkened her eyes. "What's wrong with him?" The king demanded of his other nephew, finding him with ease.  
  
"I-I dunno, Uncle, I swear," Fili answered quickly, looking at the she-elf at hearing her growled curse, asking her, "Eäri, you can help him, can't you?"  
  
"If I had my herbs, yes..." Eäriel started before realization dawned on her and she then barked, "Elladan, get my quiver, now!"  
  
Elrohir nodded to his twin when the other nearly-spirited out of the library to go to her room, moving his way to go to her side and advise, "c'mon, we should move him into the living room." At his words, Thorin and Glóin moved to lift the squirming Kili from the floor and carry him to the stout table centered in the living room with Fili and Eäriel not far behind.  
  
"Got it," Elladan declared as he returned to toss the quiver to his sister who caught it and removed the arrows to stick her arm into the leather confines until she found what she had been looking for.  
  
Eäriel beamed at locating the pouch she had brought from Rivendell, opening it to find the clump of white-flowered herbs and withdraw them with a sigh of relief. "One of you get a bowl of water and a towel," she declared as she looked to the dwarves and hobbit, nodding to Elrohir and adding to him, "get a pillow to support his head."  
  
_"I thought you weren't good at fixing these kinds of wounds_ ," Elrohir reminded in elvish as he snatched a chunky pillow from the sofa to do as told while Ori and Dori zipped to the kitchen to get the required towel and water.  
  
_"I am not, but that doesn't matter right now!_ " Snapped Eäriel in the same tongue, grousing under her breath as she used one of her daggers to cut the side of Kili's right trouser leg and find the once-white bandages were stained with black blood, _"this might require two..._ "  
  
Thorin was first to look away from the scene when the front door opened, and he started to snap at whoever chose to intrude to get help but stalled at seeing the head of flaming red hair enter the inn with a familiar blonde not far behind.  
  
_"You were never very good at mending poison wounds_ ," reminded the redhead, watching the brunette freeze while the twins looked at them with some surprise, her brown meeting the other elleth's blue, and she smiled for her.  
  
Eäriel beamed again and said in common tongue, "your timing is impeccable." She winced when Kili gave a particularly-loud cry of pain and nodded to the bowl of water and fresh towel that Dori and Ori brought, looking at the redhead who took the clump of Athelas from her hand to start removing the leaves and flowers as the process turned the herb into a wet ball. "Hold him down, lads." She ordered as she split the ball in half and handed the second part to Tauriel.  
  
Tauriel shot her an anxious glance when Kili started to thrash about, the Morgul poison that invaded his system seeming to sense it was about to be expelled, before his arms were pinned by Dwalin and Oín. "Together," she declared, looking to her former lieutenant.  
  
"Together." Eäriel confirmed with a nod, her ears cringing at the louder cry from their patient as both she and Tauriel placed the balm onto his leg, both she-elves closing their eyes to begin chanting in elvish.  
  
Their audience consisting of twelve dwarves, three elves, and one hobbit held their breath for a second when Kili's cries quieted as both redhead and brunette elf continued, and a wave of tranquility washed over the otherwise-men in the room, the sweet sound of the elvish spell filling their respective ears.  
  
While he was worried for his younger nephew whose writhing and howling had calmed, Thorin couldn't tear his eyes away from their company elf.  
  
Even as she and Tauriel seemed to be highlighted by a near-blinding white light, Eäriel stood out to him like the most brilliant star in the night sky. She looked his way then, appearing for all the world a brown-haired goddess with blue eyes that pierced into his soul, and her lips formed into a warm smile meant for him despite the soothing elvish she spoke.  
  
Fili, and by happenstance Legolas who had lingered at the back, was first to see his baby brother had raised his head to ogle Tauriel. The older heir beamed in spite of the earlier tears that stood in his eyes at seeing the color return to his brother's face, further sign the spell worked wonderfully so to save him.  
  
The two she-elves' chanting slowly quieted until the spell was finished, releasing their spectators of the enchantment, as most if not all blinked a couple of times before shaking their heads.  
  
"What's wrong with him?" Fili asked when Kili let his head droop down onto the pillow and his eyes closed, looking between the two elleths.  
  
"He's just worn out, s' all," Elrohir answered for them, clapping a hand on his shoulder as he sympathized with the blonde all too well, smiling for him and adding, "he'll need a bit of rest, but Kili will be fine soon enough, knowing him."  
  
It wasn't long before the dwarves and one hobbit proceeded to carry the unconscious heir upstairs to the room he shared with his brother, leaving the five elves to linger in the living room.  
  
"That was your best work, yet," Elladan praised as he handed his sister a handkerchief for her hands.  
  
Eäriel shrugged innocently and looked at Tauriel as she remarked, "it was, wasn't it?" Sharing a relieved smile with the redhead, she then looked at the quieted blonde and her smile faltered a bit as she asked, "given I didn't summon you two like a wizard with his staff, I imagine you came after us for a reason, didn't you?"  
  
"We interrogated an orc from the river battle and it warned us that your friend got shot... that's why she wanted to come, at least." Legolas answered with a brief gesture at the redhead, regarding her guarded and somewhat tired blue eyes as he added with a slight scoff, "I came to see whether you hadn't gotten yourself eaten by Smaug."  
  
"Legolas, come on," Elrohir reproached quietly as he scowled at their old friend.  
  
"You came because you worried about me, like always, but fret not, princeling. I'm still here," retorted Eäriel as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her weariness from healing Kili and returned bitterness with the blonde prince causing her patience to dwindle to a shred. She added flatly, "you can go crawling back to Thranduil if you so choose, but I'm staying with the dwarves."  
  
"But why them, why dwarves! You left us a century ago because you claimed it was your father's wish to unite us, but you didn't bother telling me the night before you left... I deserve to know, Eäriel." Snapped the blonde, taking a step towards her.  
  
Bristling at his curt tone, the brunette growled back, "you'd never understand, Legolas, not in another thousand years! You never had the backbone to stand up to your father, not even for me, you always went along with whatever he told you to do... what the devil makes you think I would expect you to sympathize with my plight?"  
  
It was painfully quiet between the disillusioned pair before Legolas broke it, answering in a quieted voice, "because I loved you, once. Maybe I still do, and maybe I would've come with you if you had asked... but that still doesn't explain why you've not only betrayed your people but have fallen for Oakenshield." Having dropped his gaze to the polished floor of the room, he lifted it to look at her brilliant eyes.  
  
"I loved you too, but that was decades ago... I haven't betrayed you, or my family, but the dwarves... they're mortal, yes, but that doesn't mean they don't live every day of their lives to the fullest." Eäriel stated in a quieted voice, swallowing and continuing as she dropped her gaze, "our people take life for granted, because we're immortal. We're proud, and stubborn, and altogether snobbish, and... and I can't go back to that. I refuse, honestly, especially to the Woodland Realm. You'd have to kill me first."  
  
Both twins smiled wryly at her resolve, knowing even as she had a home with them she would choose the dwarves in a heartbeat, one in particular... they perked up when she lowered a hand to the belt at her waist and undid the flap of the tiny pouch at her left side, withdrawing something small before she palmed it and stepped up to the quieted prince.  
  
Legolas watched her take his right hand and deposit the small item from her left hand, brow furrowing as he found her face blasé like she was wont to do when she wished to hide something, starting, "Eäriel..."  
  
Leaning up to kiss his cheek, Eäriel drew back and left the trinket with him, quietly stating, "I'm sorry, but I've made my choice."  
  
Tauriel regarded the dumbstruck look on his handsome face and frowned a bit before regarding the returned trinket was a silver ring with a small diamond in the center. She had only heard tale of ellons giving an engagement ring to whichever elleth they chose, but until now she didn't know Legolas had given one to Eäriel... she smiled, albeit ruefully, and looked to the stairs leading up to the sleeping quarters. "Come on, I'm sure they're wondering where you went," she reminded the other she-elf.  
  
Eäriel nodded back and returned the smile, leaving the trio to ascend the stairs with her quiver on one shoulder, hearing Tauriel follow. "I half-expected you to jump in, back there," she admitted quietly.  
  
Pausing for a moment at that, Tauriel shook her head with a quiet chuckle, remarking, "he was your betrothed, I didn't think it wise to butt in... I'm sure he'll be all right. You've chewed him out in the past, if you remember."  
  
Smiling wryly at the assurance, Eäriel laughed under her breath before voicing a sigh and musing, "I'm glad you're here, though... honestly."

  
  


Fili gave a snort as he awoke from his nap, looking about for a moment to find with relief that the room hadn't changed much.  
  
Kili lay sleeping in his respective bed with his mended leg propped up by the same thick pillow from downstairs, snoring away... shaking his head at his brother's better state, Fili looked to the chair near the door of their room and found Eäriel having dozed off.  
  
Eäriel had come to check on them the night before, with the redhead Tauriel not far behind, the former redressing Kili's leg after taking the dirtied bandages off and placing a leaf of an herb that served as a pain nullifier underneath the new bandages. The latter took to occupying the edge of Fili's bed that was closer to Kili, gently speaking to him when he roused and claimed he dreamt of her walking in starlight... braided mustache twitching at the image, Fili recognized his brother's swooning over the redhead hadn't gone unrequited.  
  
Much like Thorin.  
  
Like the majority of their kinsmen, Fili wasn't a dwarfling anymore, so he knew his dear uncle had become even more enamored with Eäriel the night before... he could barely blame him.  
  
The door was knocked on once before it opened, then, drawing the blonde to reality as the very same dwarf poked his head in to find them gathered there.  
  
Giving a wince as sleeping with her head leaned back had caused a crick to start forming at her nape, the she-elf roused at the door's opening and opened an eye to see Thorin had shuffled his way past her to check on his nephews. A warm smile crossed her lips as she considered the royal trio to be more like a father and his sons, and she closed her eyes only to stretch her arms above her head and give a quiet yawn.  
  
"Thank you, Eäriel," Fili said, drawing her back to the room, having shrugged away from the blanket she had covered him with to shuffle over and embrace the elleth.  
  
Blue eyes looking misty for a moment, Eäriel closed them and hugged back just as tightly, giving a quiet chuckle as he drew away and replying, "you're most welcome, Fili... just don't pull the same stunt, the next time we get in trouble?" She tilted her head with a knowing smile crossing her lips.  
  
"I'd hope he doesn't," Thorin put in patiently, earning a mild look from his sheepish nephew, as Eäriel giggled.  
  
"S' my job, isn't it?" Yawned Kili as he opened an eye before closing them to rub the heels of his palms to get rid of the sand, and he opened his eyes to see Eäriel had left her chair to press the back of her hand to his forehead.  
  
Nodding a bit at finding his body temperature was normal, Eäriel caught his brown gaze and made a sideways face as she hummed, "dunno, Thorin, I think he's missing a couple of cogs..."  
  
Fili caught the sore glance from both darker-haired dwarves and laughed, plopping down next to his uncle and musing lightly, "methinks that happened when he saw that redhead friend of yours."  
  
"How long's _that_ been going on, exactly?" Thorin asked pointedly, looking from Fili to the suddenly-blushing Kili when neither dwarf answered, and he palmed his forehead to grumble, "for Mahal's sake..."  
  
"I think it's good," Eäriel said innocently as she straightened, earning a surprised look from all three princes, and she gave a shrug before adding, "I don't see anything wrong with it." Though she could just be biased.  
  
Thorin ran a loose hand through his hair and sighed through his nose, straightening from the edge of the bed. "Might I have a word, privately?" He asked her, looking to her before glancing at the ajar door and back.  
  
Eäriel rolled her eyes and nodded along, ruffling Kili's hair before promising, "I'll be back with some tea." She shared a brief look with Fili before looking away to be first to the door, opening it and giving a flourishing gesture to the hallway as she urged coolly, "my liege."  
  
Thorin shot her a withering glance that earned a cheery smirk, striding past her out of the room and letting her close the door behind them before they both left down the hall to go downstairs. "Your friends haven't left, mind you... last I saw they were in the courtyard with your brothers," he broke the quiet first, regarding those of their company that relaxed in the living room.  
  
"Figured that, Tauriel was rather worried for Kili when I urged she get some rest a few hours ago," Eäriel mused, rubbing her neck with a hand as they entered the kitchen, leaving him to check on the pot of tea that sat on the stove top. Dori had most likely made it, knowing his affinity for Chamomile tea. Searching the cabinets for a free cup, she reasoned, "you still wish to protect them, even though they're not small anymore."  
  
Having found a seat at the nearby small table, Thorin made a face at her nonchalance and replied, "obviously. Kili's too young to be getting involved with elves, especially one from the Woodland Realm." His brow gave a twitch at seeing her give a shake of the head before she located a stout blue cup and proceeded to shuffle over to the steaming pot.  
  
"But dwarves' courting customs aren't so strict, are they?" She wondered, glancing up at him to see he wasn't looking at her but at the lower cabinet with reddened ears, and she smiled fondly before adding in her defense, "Tauriel is a gentle soul, she's much too good of a woman to be serving Thranduil... but I feel that she's no longer welcome back there. Thranduil doesn't take kindly to losing his subjects for no good reason." She frowned a bit.  
  
"You think he's banished her, then?" He asked quietly, distinctly feeling that even as he said it he knew the elves would hear them... their ears weren't just good for being pointy. At her nod, he considered her own case and allowed a wry smile, musing more to himself, "all for a star-crossed infatuation."  
  
Cheeks turning somewhat rosy at his phrase, she traced a finger along the lip of the cup and wondered, "sounds familiar, doesn't it?" Thinking to what had been spoken between them before Kili's incident, which caused the color in her cheeks to deepen, she looked to him and found he looked very interested in the faded blue color of the cabinets, clearing her throat and asking, "were you going to tell me something, last night?"  
  
"I thought you were going to get that cup for Kili," he reminded knowingly, internally kicking himself for a second time at ducking the inevitable.  
  
Pausing at his words and the peculiar look in his eye, she gave a soft puff and nodded, pouring the tea into the cup before turning to leave him. "Just when I thought we were getting somewhere..." she mumbled under her breath.  
  
_"Gi... melin_ , Eäriel." Hoping that he had said the correct thing, Thorin watched her freeze in leaving the kitchen. He stepped away from the table and gulped, steeling himself from further hesitation as he added in a quieted tone, "apparently it means..."  
  
"I know... I know, what it means." Giving a silent gulp as the phrase, the words spoken in not-too-bad of an accent, was spoken correctly... _oh Valar he finally said it_. Eäriel heard her voice come out in a tone that sounded small and foreign, as she exhaled shallowly and steeled herself from hesitation before saying, "y-you're quite sure of it, aren't you?" _You damn fool, he already said it!_ picked her subconscious.  
  
At that, Thorin allowed a wry laugh, watching her straightened spine seem to relax a degree as he remarked, "learning elvish from the twins wasn't the highlight of my day, but I would rather not have to repeat it."  
  
Lowering the cup to the nearby counter, Eäriel couldn't help the snort at hearing that, covering her mouth with a hand and turning to him.  
  
Her heart gave a painful ache in her ribcage at the sincerity that burned in his eyes, and she gave a breathy laugh in turn before musing, "thank the Valar that you were given the correct translation from those two..." sobering as their eyes held, she lifted a hand to run her fingers through her loosened braid. "I... I love you, too, Thorin," she confessed quietly, watching his eyes widen before they softened, smiling for him and adding, "even though you are byfar _the_ most impossible dwarf I've ever known, I love you."  
  
Thorin smiled rather proudly at that, watching a happy grin cross her lips, before he nodded to the abandoned cup and reminded in a gentler tone, "hope it hasn't gone cold yet... the tea."  
  
"Right, almost forgot," chuckled Eäriel as she took the cup and found it was somewhat lukewarm, looking at him with soft eyes and gesturing to the dining room, "I'll be upstairs, with the boys." She held stares with him for a last moment before turning to leave the kitchen at last.

  
  


" _ **He said it**?"_  
  
Cheeks flushing, she snapped at the four of them, "shut it!"  
  
Sobering and glancing out past the ajar door when hearing they remained undetected, the four brothers relaxed in their respective seats. Even before Kili's incident, the two princes and the twins had begun an interesting friendship, granted the alliance didn't bode well for the patience of either Thorin or Eäriel, but they would admit it was nice to see the quartet getting along.  
  
"Congratulations are in order, then," Kili commented lightly. It seemed with both she-elves being involved in healing him the night before, he was faring better than Eäriel had imagined. He would be able to walk his way with them to the mountain come the next morning, if all continued to go well.  
  
Fili shot him a wry look, knowing for a fact that he was only saying so because he won the bet. "About time, honestly... Uncle's always been moody, but he's gotten better about that since you two met up again," he mused between lighting up his pipe.  
  
"Methinks he's going to be walking on air when he finds out she dropped Legolas," Elladan chuckled at the image, wincing when Eäriel smacked his chest with a hand between perching on the arm of the chair he occupied.  
  
Kili chuckled at the siblings and said flippantly, "even more to celebrate... never liked the bloke."  
  
Elrohir smirked at the younger dwarf and mused with a wry look at his sister, "she chewed him out pretty good, too, before giving back that engagement ring."  
  
"That hurt from over here," Fili puffed, giving a brief wince at the thought, looking to the quieted elleth and guessing lightly, "should we start planning the wedding right now?"  
  
"Do that and you'll get a nice shiner to match Kili's bum leg," Eäriel retorted flatly, shooting both he and her brother a sore look. She pouted at the bemused glance traded between the twins, sighing and asking, "did Tauriel and Legolas leave?" _Where could they go,_ she half-wondered.  
  
"Apparently Legolas is still sore about last night, given he went to scout back the way we came," answered the named redhead who had come looking for the siblings, causing both princes to start a bit at her being so quiet. She looked to the younger of the two and her eyes softened.  
  
Eäriel sniffed at that and watched her former captain shuffle past her to take a seat on the edge of Fili's bed, glancing out at the hallway and finding they were still unnoticed before she said, "Tauriel, I need you to do me a favor." At the redhead's cocked brow to urge she continue, she went on, "on the horrible chance that we wake the dragon and it gets free, there's a family you must help to flee from here. The father is named Bard, and he has three children, two girls and one boy."  
  
Cataloguing the name to memory, Tauriel nodded, frowning a bit at the surprised glance that passed between the four brothers, wondering, "is he important to you?"  
  
"He's a friend of mine, but he's a good man." Eäriel replied with a shrug, rolling her eyes at the boys' shared look.  
  
Elrohir frowned a bit and remarked, "even though he asked you to try and sway Thorin?"  
  
"He only did so because of his people... it's not unlike you and 'Dan coming after me, is it?" Eäriel retorted knowingly, cocking a brow at him.  
  
Tauriel chuckled quietly when both twins shot a sore look at their sister.


End file.
